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"And if we show him not falcons that will mount as merrily as rockets," said the Abbot of Unreason, "I would your honour laid as hard on my bones as you did on his even now." "How now, Sir Knave," said the Knight, "and what has brought you hither?"
The whole thing started, of course, when Goddard shot his first rocket to the moon, and was intensified when Roeser so perfected his short waves that signals were exchanged with Mars signals that neither side could make any sense out of. Goddard's pupils and followers made bigger and better rockets, and finally got one that could land safely upon Mars.
Showers of shot, and shell, and rockets were flying into the devoted town. Suddenly a fearful roar was heard. Earth and stones, and fragments of timber mixed with human forms, were seen to rise up into the air. One of the enemy's chief magazines had exploded.
Baird thought irrelevantly of the vapor trails of an atmosphere-liner in the planet's upper air. The ruled-line straightness of the first six rockets' course abruptly broke. One of them veered crazily out of control. It shifted to an almost right-angled course. A second swung wildly to the left.
They were relieved at night by another party under the third lieutenant, who was directed to burn blue-lights and let off rockets at intervals, in case any ship should be passing. Night brought no cessation to the toils of the crew. Torches were formed, and fresh hands laboured away at the rafts. Several times as they were thus toiling, the ground below them shook more or less violently.
Then came the flare of rockets to notify the rest of the blockading fleet, the hot pursuit with boilers crowded to bursting, the boom of the big guns fired at random in the dark, and the exultation of a capture or the disappointment of failure. Blockade-running became a regular business, enormously profitable.
But by that time the Thetis had vanished in the darkness; nor did she re-appear, although the unfortunate lieutenant expended his entire stock of rockets in a vain attempt to attract her attention.
"I hope," he cried, "you don't mean to say that we Grouse aren't swift!" "No, indeed!" Nimble's mother answered hastily. "I should hope not!" was Mr. Grouse's response to that. "For everybody knows that we go up like rockets at the slightest sign of danger." "Exactly!" said Nimble's mother. "You are so swift that you don't really need those spots to help conceal yourself, once you're grown up."
Occasionally as the steamer passed these places of irrepressible gayety rockets were let off, Bengal-lights were burned, and once a cannon attempted to speak the joy of the sojourners. It was like a continued Fourth of July, and King's heart burned within him with national pride. Even Mrs. Farquhar had to admit that it was a fairy spectacle.
Watch out!" Then put both hands before him to protect his helmet. His hands caught the French Planeteer between the shoulders with a bone-jarring thud. Trudeau held tight to the launcher, but the rocket racks opened and spilled attack rockets into space. They flew in a dozen different directions. Trudeau gave vent to his feelings in colorful French.
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