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"Before the big events the coach used to take us one side and make us believe that the one thing in life we wanted was that game. He used to make us as hungry for it as a starved dog for a bone. He used to make us ache for it. So we used to wade in and tear ourselves all to pieces to get it." "Well?" "If we won it was n't so much; if we lost it left us aching worse than before." "Yes."
He did not know that Maguire passed him a dozen times, not stopping, but watching him closely as he passed.... With the stopping of work about him he realized that he was tired. He had lifted weights; he had used unaccustomed muscles. He was hot, sweaty, aching. He was hungry. "Where do we eat?" he asked the man who stood at the next machine. "Didn't you bring no lunch?" "No."
And as if to atone for these more or less frequent lapses there was something pathetic, even a little heart-breaking, in Carrie's zeal for his wellbeing. No duty too small. One night she wanted to unlace his shoes and even shine them, would have, in fact, except for his fierce catching of her into his arms and for some reason, his tonsils aching as he kissed her.
Weary and aching in every limb, little Rosalie fell asleep on the chair by her mother's side; and when she awoke with a shiver in the dead of night, and once more felt her mother's hand, it was as cold as ice. And Rosalie knew then that she was dead.
Shall we go?" He gave her a quick, keen look, as if he suspected her of trying to elude him; but he let her go without a word. They descended to lunch, and later went forth into the blazing sunshine where the car awaited them. Avery sank back into the corner and closed her eyes. Her head was aching violently.
His tooth had stopped aching now, and he kept telling such exciting stories about Indians that Pony could not seem to get the chance to ask why Bunty Williams should take after the boys with his shotgun and bulldog if he had given up the watermelon patch and only wanted it for seed.
One morning three or four days after leaving Louisville, word was passed around that the regiment would not move that day, and the boys were so glad at the prospect of a day of rest that they wanted to get right up and yell. Si was sitting on a log, with his shoes off, rubbing his aching limbs and nursing his blisters, when the Orderly came along. "Co.
It was hard going, and when a bare dozen long strokes had been made his burden so dragged him down that he was obliged to stop, and, floundering desperately to keep the white face above water, take a fresh store of breath into his aching lungs.
It should be a lesson to her. But you don't look well, Miss Bee," she went on; "is your head aching, my dear?" "Yes," Bee allowed, "and I can't think why, for I slept very well. What day is it, Phoebe? Isn't it Sunday?" "Yes, Miss Bee. It's Sunday." "I don't think I can go to church. The organ would make my head worse," said Bee, sitting up in bed.
Stunned and bewildered with the confusion of thought in my brain, I tried to walk a few paces, and found the ground soft as velvet, while a cool breeze blowing through the trees refreshed my aching forehead and eyes. I still held the book 'The Secret of Life' and in a dull, aimless way thought how useless it was! What does Life matter if Love be untrue?
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