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They seemed to Janet that morning hatefully beautiful. In front of his tin shop, whistling cheerfully and labouring energetically with a shovel to clean his sidewalk, was Johnny Tiernan, the tip of his pointed nose made very red by the wind. "Good morning, Miss Bumpus," he said. "Now, if you'd only waited awhile, I'd have had it as clean as a parlour. It's fine weather for coal bills."
Then, just as she might have stirred a cake with the big spoon, she began digging in the snow. It was almost as good as a shovel. In a little while Freddie's head was uncovered, and then it was easy to get him out. He wasn't hurt a bit, only a little scared, and he laughed when Dinah and Flossie brushed the snow off him.
Then he pulled his toboggan cap well down over his ears and neck and donned his mittens. "There are only two snow shovels," announced Dick. "What are the rest of you going to use?" "Here's the fire shovel," answered Greg, producing it. "That will be good enough for me." "Get the door open, Dave," called Dick. Darrin unbarred the door, trying to swing it open.
All that we have to do is simply to follow the beaten path. Nature has conveniently left narrow shelves, crevices, and less precipitous slopes here and there, which need only the application of the pick and shovel to be made passable even for pack animals.
Don Gaspar, still in his embroidered boots, his crimson velvet breeches, his white linen, and his sombrero, but without the blue and silver jacket, was busily wielding a pickaxe a hundred feet or so away. His companion, or servant, was doing the heavier shovel work.
How he was taking advantage of his necessity! . . . And not until he had produced five gold coins was he able to secure the package. He soon began to notice all around him a silent and sly conspiracy to get possession of his money. A giant in a sergeant's uniform put a shovel in his hand pushing him roughly forward.
I should like to be left alone in that place for about an hour with a shovel to work with. I would be rich when I came out." "You jest keep away from that there suller," said the old woman sternly. "Don't go nigh the house, nary one of you."
Out of her cabin hurried Aunt Cindy and toward the garage, her white apron like a flag of truce flapping against the oncoming storm. He watched her put the shovel into the little wagon and pull the wagon into the blacksmith shop. The door creaked loudly as she closed it. Back to her cabin she hurried, leaning against the wind.
And the men got out of the big cart and unhitched the horses from the cart, and the little boy thought he had better go there and see what they were going to do. So he went, dragging his cart behind him, with his shovel and his hoe rattling in the bottom of it. And his cat saw him going, and she ran on ahead with her bushy tail sticking straight up in the air.
Again I am in the chamber with my sister's corpse, again the pomps of life rise up in silence, the glory of summer, the Syrian sunlights, the frost of death. Once more the funeral procession gathers; the priest, in his white surplus, stands waiting with a book by the side of an open grave; the sacristan is waiting with his shovel; the coffin has sunk; the dust to dust has descended.
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