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"Welcome, honest Roger, welcome home again!" they shout: and the patereroes on the lawn thunder a salute; "welcome, honest neighbour;" and up went, at bright noon, Tom Stableboy's dozen of rockets wrapped around with streamers of glazed calico "welcome, welcome!" Good Mr.
The enemy, lately, had caused great annoyance by firing at the ridge 32-pound rockets, a large store of which they had found in the magazine, and as they were unused to discharging these dangerous missiles, the rockets at first, by their rebound, inflicted more damage on the rebels than on us; but, gaining experience through long practice, they every evening and during part of the night fired them at the ridge, one or two falling right amongst the tents in camp.
The bursting shells, the fiery rockets, and the carcasses filled with flaming chemicals, fairly filled the little wooden village with fire; but the exertions of the people prevented the spread of the flames. The fleet ceased firing at midnight, but there was no peace for the villagers.
Dimly Tom realized that the rockets had been cut and they were safely on the surface of the satellite. He picked himself up and turned to face Vidac. The lieutenant governor was unstrapping himself from the pilot's chair. His face was ashen. He stalked out of the control deck without a word. "Touchdown!" screamed Roger from the radar deck. "We made it. We're on Roald!"
Our explosive rockets could not penetrate this film, for it disintegrated them instantly and harmlessly, as it did all other material substance with the sole exception of "inertron," that synthetic element developed by the Americans from the sub-electronic and ultronic orders.
On March 3d, at six o'clock A. M., I left Richmond and took the steamer Martin at the Rockets, followed by my friend, Mrs. Morris, with a basket of fresh cakes, apples, oranges, and a bottle of wine. I asked her to excuse me for objecting to the bottle of wine, as I never drank it.
Everything was different, and we saw it through the eyes of youth and romance as epitomizing the storied tropics. There were perhaps a couple of hundred of the cane huts arranged roughly along streets in which survived the remains of crude paving. All else was a morass. Single palm trees shot up straight, to burst like rockets in a falling star of fronds.
There was a sudden salute of artillery, and a flight of rockets soared upward in long flaming curves, dissolving in showers of liquid emerald and ruby and silver against the night. Bengola lights casting a blue glare over the standing mob and farther house fronts were followed by a great Peruvian Cross, a silvery fountain of water and Grand Representation of Bunker Hill Monument.
The schooner, riding at anchor half a mile outside the reef, had taken in her sails and presented a singularly naked and desolate appearance. He wondered how long it would take the devoted Brisket to send assistance in case of need, and blamed himself severely for not having brought some rockets for signalling purposes. Long before night came the prospect of sleeping ashore had lost all its charm.
The Congreve rockets, the effect and direction of which it is said the Austrians can now regulate, the shrapnel howitzers, which throw a stream of canister as far as the range of a bullet, the Perkins steam-guns, which vomit forth as many balls as a battalion, will multiply the chances of destruction, as though the hecatombs of Eylau, Borodino, Leipsic, and Waterloo were not sufficient to decimate the European races.
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