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"I don't always do it, but it is business, I acknowledge. When a man pulls he ought to shoot very often it's the only chance he ever gets to shoot. Well, it isn't every man gets the drop on me that easy, but you boys have got it," continued Whispering Smith in frank admiration. "Only I want to say you're after the wrong man.
How does the air carry sound? how are animals formed? how do some of our limbs constantly obey our wills? what hand puts ideas in our memory, keeps them there as in a register, and pulls them out sometimes when we want them and sometimes in spite of ourselves? Our nature, the nature of the universe, the nature of the least plant, everything for us is sunk in a shadowy pit.
And I was there one morning, early it was, when the charwoman she says to me, 'I wish you'd take these two or three hearthrugs, she says, 'and give 'em a good beating, she says. And me being always a ready one to oblige, 'All right! I says, and takes 'em. 'Here's something to wallop 'em with, she says, and pulls that there old stick out of a lot that was in a stand in a corner of the lobby.
Not that I pretend for a moment to have been the thing I never was: you are not so very grateful to the man who pulls you out of the mud when he has first of all pushed you in; nor is it chivalry alone which spurs one to the rescue of a lovely lady for whom, after all, one would rather live than die.
"Well, so long," says an officer "bring back a V. C.," cries his sister from the group on the platform, and he waves his hand in deprecation as the train pulls out, lights his pipe, and pretends to be reading the Sphere. Some evening, perchance, you happen to be in the dark street outside of Charing Cross station.
The traction engine travels about on its own wheels, till it reaches the required spot; then it stands still and by means of a wire rope pulls the huge plow toward itself two or three hundred yards across the field, between the rows of cane. The thing cuts down into the black mold a foot and a half deep. The plow looks like a fore-and-aft brace of a Hudson river steamer, inverted.
During the pains she grasps and pulls on a cloth fixed to a rafter above and before her. The pains seem to be severe, since the woman generally groans and cries out; but the duration of labour is commonly brief, perhaps two or three hours only.
"It is the way of the white man," Ebbits mumbled with an air of resignation. "It is the foolishness of the white man," snapped Zilla. "Then let old Ebbits teach the white man wisdom," I said softly. "The dog is not killed, because it must pull the sled of the man. No man pulls another man's sled, wherefore the man is killed." "Oh," I murmured. "That is the law," old Ebbits went on.
At the same time he says, 'I wish her every happiness and good fortune in her married life, and I beg of her to accept this trifling gift as a souvenir of the happy occasion. Then he pulls off a ring from his little finger and slips it on hers. The sun glittered on it for a moment. We could see the stones shine. It was a diamond ring, every one could see.
One of the men posted at Akeanlinna brings him his pole but his hat is gone. He hurries up along the bank. "Enough give over now!" cry those on the bridge. "Go and tell your mother!" he answers furiously. "Maybe he'd like to have that chart now, after all," says one, with a sly glance. He pulls off his red coat. "Seeing I've lost my hat, I can do without a jacket."
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