A strange boy was eating breakfast one morning at the long table.

We could not put Faith in with a strange boy!

He thought about the strange, lonely boy in the room next to his.

No, he did not want this strange, wild boy at all.

The strange boy was looking warily out of the window.

Some months back a strange boy appeared in our city.

Only she could not stop seeing the strange boy's face.

In some ways he was a strange boy, with rather a big chip on his shoulder.

She leaned on the strange boy with the thin, hard arms.

None of the men, however, knew what the fights were about, nor had they seen two strange boys.