United States or United Arab Emirates ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
The bay was off like a shot, leaving Phil directly in front of the oncoming elephants. "Run! I'll come back and get you," shouted Dimples over her shoulder. "You can't. The reins are over the bay's head," he answered. She was powerless to help. Dimples realized this at once. She was in no danger herself.
Tom was in truth a man of action, and to action in the larger world he now turned. Towards the end of September, 1811, at the time when, to-day, Murray Bay's summer sojourners turn reluctantly homeward from the crisp autumn air and from the mountain sides beginning to show the season's glowing tints, Captain Nairne set out from the Manor House to join his regiment at Quebec.
"Fifty cents," he answered in a voice that echoed up and down the Cove. "That must sound good to the fishermen," MacRae called back pleasantly. "Folly Bay's getting generous in its declining years." It was the off period between tides. There were forty boats at rest in the Cove and more coming in. The ripple of laughter that ran over the fleet was plainly audible. They could appreciate that.
A range of hills known as Bay's Mountain was the water-shed between the valleys of the Holston and the French Broad, and we expected the cavalry to cover the front on a line from Kimbrough's Cross-roads near the mountain to the Bend o' Chucky. Those who only knew Sheridan after the war would hardly recognize him in the thin and wiry little man I met at Dandridge.
I felt myself to blame for having accepted Frome's offer, and after a short discussion I persuaded him to let me get out of the sleigh and walk along through the snow at the bay's side. In this way we struggled on for another mile or two, and at last reached a point where Frome, peering into what seemed to me formless night, said: "That's my gate down yonder."
Yesterday we saw Johnnie Green ride you up to the kitchen window where Mrs. Green was peeling potatoes. And she gave you a potato. And you ate it." "People are always feeding you," echoed the bay's bay mate. "How can I help that?" Twinkleheels asked them. "You could decline with thanks," they explained. Twinkleheels shook his head. "It wouldn't be polite," he said.
"Now," he cried, his voice cracked and hoarse. "Now, Christ help us, now, now," and gripping the boy he reined back as tightly as he dared, reined back to feel the slender boy slip from the bay's back, hang helpless in the air an instant, then fall sprawling across the saddle.
"What?" she said pleasantly; her basket was full, and they began to walk back to the road again. Gifford stopped to let his horse crop the thick wet grass about a fallen gate-post. He threw his arm over the bay's neck, and Lois leaned her elbows on the other post, swinging her basket lightly while she waited for him to speak.
They were even studying in the trees. You get fifty college boys to turn actors for a day and you will see some mighty mixed results. There was "Bay" Sanderson, for instance. "Bay's" idea of being a wild and Western student was to sit on the front gate with a long knife stuck in his belt and read detective stories.
Several times Phil went toward the bay, and every time his advance was met by one of those vicious rushes. Then Phil mounted Curly's horse, and from his hand the loop of another riata fell over the bay's head.
Word Of The Day