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The "Bertha" is an uncommonly ugly breed of nine-inch shell loaded with H.E. It comes sailing over with a querulous "squeeeeeee", and explodes with an ear-splitting crash and a burst of murky, dull-red flame. If it hits you fair, you disappear. At a little distance you are ripped to fragments, and a little farther off you get a case of shell-shock.
In a certain country there was once great lamentation over a wild boar that laid waste the farmer's fields, killed the cattle, and ripped up people's bodies with his tusks. The King promised a large reward to anyone who would free the land from this plague; but the beast was so big and strong that no one dared to go near the forest in which it lived.
It had been ripped almost in half, and was still bleeding profusely. One Eye scooped out mouthfuls of the blood-soaked snow, and chewed and tasted and swallowed. This served as a relish, and his hunger increased mightily; but he was too old in the world to forget his caution. He waited.
Slade ripped out an astounded oath. "He's beaten the game!" he cried. The head of the reptile had been crushed. The trader possibly may have been overcome with admiration for his victim's courage. More probably he was moved by the need to keep him alive for further torture. He signed one of the Navahos to use his canteen. Lennon had feigned unconsciousness in the hope of this result.
The weeds grew high about its foundations; the sparrows built nests behind such of its shutters as had not been ripped from their hinges by February no'theasters; its roof grew bald in spots as the shingles loosened and were blown away; the swallows flew in and out of its stone-broken windowpanes.
O-o-o-o-h! it's once I froze the end of my nose, On the coast of Labrador, sir, An' I lost my smell, an' my taste as well, An' my pipe, which made me roar, sir; But the traders come, an' think wot they done! They poked an' pinched an' skewered me; They cut an' snipped, an' they carved an' ripped, An' they clothed an' fed an' cured me. Chorus. Hooroo! it's true An' a sailor's life for me.
Antoine for his part expressed his disgust with the horrible religious pictures for which the pilgrims fought pictures which in some respects suggested those on the lids of sweetmeat boxes, although they depicted the Christ with His breast ripped open and displaying His bleeding heart. There could be no more repulsive materialism, no grosser or baser art, said Antoine.
Sweet but anyhow, good or no good, she dug up the tacks last night an' ripped the widths an' set down to sew this mornin'. Her story is as she turned the duck out to pasture right after breakfast an' then went to work an' sewed away as happy as a bean until about ten o'clock. Then she felt most awful tired from the rippin' an' yesterday an' all, so she thought she'd rest a little.
Mike the Angel ran into Captain Sir Henry Quill as he went up the companionway to the bridge. "What happened?" demanded the captain in his gravelly tenor voice. "Somebody ripped out the main switches to the low-power taps from the main generators, sir," said Mike. "Nothing to worry about. The boys will have the lights on within three or four minutes." "Who...?"
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