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Those qualities, rather than fighting power, were what he believed he needed now. With luck—always with a large-sized helping of luck! "Now that you have that bucked out, how about a little sound reasoning?" Hunt Rennie still held his position, riding stirrup to stirrup with Drew. The worst of it was, Don Cazar was right. This was no time for raw emotion to replace thinking.
For whose sake, then was she virtuous? Was it not for him, the obstacle to all felicity, the cause of all misery, and, as it were, the sharp clasp of that complex strap that bucked her in on all sides.
Teague yelled as he spurred down. R.C. rode hard in his tracks. But my horse was new to this bear chasing. He was mettlesome, and he did not want to do what I wanted. When I jabbed the spurs into his flanks he nearly bucked me off. I was looking for a soft place to light when he quit. Long before I got down that open slope Teague and R.C. had disappeared. I had to follow their tracks.
At any rate, Walkinshaw told me that if I bucked up I might get tried again. 'Silly goat, said Bowden. 'What are you going to do? 'I'm going to take his advice, and buck up. He did. At the beginning of the game the ropes were lined by some thirty spectators, who had come to derive a languid enjoyment from seeing the First pile up a record score.
Many a night De la Vega and his stoical guide slept beneath a cactus, or in the mocking bed of a creek. The mustangs he managed to lasso were almost unridable, and would have bucked to death any but a Californian. Sometimes he lived on cactus fruit and the dried meat he had brought with him; occasionally he shot a rabbit. Again he had but the flesh of the rattlesnake roasted over coals.
Lateral passes, forward passes, delayed plays, all were used and all gained something, while Freer and Still and Freer again slid past the tackles, Carmine shot through here and there like a jack rabbit and the slower-moving Rollins bucked the line for less spectacular gains. Past the centre of the field rolled the Maroon-and-Grey, past the forty yards, past the thirty.
"Then she don't know what her lover is yet?" asked the Expressman eagerly. "No." "Are YOU certain it's one of the gang?" "Can't say FOR SURE. It mout be a young chap from Yolo who bucked agin the tiger* at Sacramento, got regularly cleaned out and busted, and joined the gang for a flier.
Flustered, no doubt, by their narrow escape, they did not care to be shown off. The cow backed and the sheep bucked; but finally the green blanket with yellow fringe was removed and their appendage was exhibited to the public, and then the performance ended.... At the light-house of Brest. Here the Old World ends. This is its most advanced point; its farthest limit.
I have to report that I'm fired out of the Quickstep. I'm not complaining about that or asking you to reinstate me, because I can get another job now, but I want to tell you why I was fired. The captain got a grouch against me coming up. We had a nor'west gale on our port counter and she rolled and bucked until even some of the crew got seasick.
He had seen the last British troops away from Pec and had then followed on a motor-bicycle. I went into the old R.A.M.C. Mess to see if any food or drink was left. The question of food was beginning to be serious for the whole retreating Army. Italian troops were clearing out everything. I found a wine bottle half full, and took a deep drink. It was vinegar, but it bucked one up.
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