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Perry Blair, champion lightweight of the world, stood on the corner of Broadway and Forty-fourth Street, deep in contemplation of a quaint phase of our present-day democracy. It was a fertile spot for such moralizing, albeit somewhat exposed for one attempting philosophy in a fall-weight overcoat.
Instead of a quiet, dull brown, they were a garish shade that almost approached olive drab. Well, he thought, nothing's perfect. He shrugged into a harness and had his single suitcase attached to it; the harness and case were lightweight, too, and Charley headed for the station walking easily.
Leaving the carny lot, of course, he put on his sandals; outside the carnival, he had to wear shoes. They were laceless, of course, and made to be kicked off easily. Charley slipped into them and thought wryly of the professor and his "scientific Renaissance." The shoes were a new plastic, lightweight and long-lasting, but the dyeing problem hadn't quite been solved.
Neither he nor I had any idea that I could do anything, but I was entered in the lightweight contest, in which it happened that I was pitted in succession against a couple of reedy striplings who were even worse than I was. Equally to their surprise and to my own, and to John Long's, I won, and the pewter mug became one of my most prized possessions.
I never saw anything prettier than the way Bert flung him back as though he had been a lightweight. I caught the bewildered look on his face as he went over. He didn't know for a minute what had hit him." "It was the only thing that saved us from being scored on," said Martin. "It's the tightest place we've been in so far this season."
If this cloak and dagger business became too realistic, she'd already decided she would use it as needed. She slipped the Denton into the side pocket of a lightweight rain robe, draped the robe over her arm, slung her purse beside it, picked up the sun hat and left the room. The Colonial School's kitchen area was on one of the underground levels.
I had lessons, when I was twelve years old, from a little man who used to be a champion lightweight that is, a man of not more than a certain weight." Annie looked doubtful for a minute, and then exclaimed: "Ah, yes, I understand now. That is how it is you came to our help so quickly and bravely, when the tiger burst in." "I daresay it had something to do with it," Dick said, with a smile.
Your cat may be the acknowledged lightweight champion of his district a Griffo of the feline ring! Just think how much more he gets out of his life than you do out of yours what a hurricane of fighting and lovemaking his life is and blush for yourself. You have had one little love-affair, and never had a good, all-out fight in your life! And the sport they have, too!
Against the lightweight Maxim guns, weighing only about twenty-five pounds each and firing 600 to 700 shots per minute with an effective range of two miles, the old-fashioned rifles and field-pieces of the force under the traitor Kouaga had been powerless, hence the whole expedition had been utterly routed, followed up after their flight and massacred almost to a man, Kouaga himself being shot dead by Niaro while strenuously endeavouring to rally his men for a final onslaught.
"'Tain't likely, not after the way he left his boarding place, if that Lindsay woman didn't lie." Pennold laid aside his pipe and frowned thoughtfully, as steps echoed from the rickety porch and a knock sounded upon the door. "He's a lightweight, every way you take him he'd never stick anywhere." "Maybe he's come to try an' get you into somethin'," Mame suggested.
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