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On the present occasion he was measuring out tea with a concentration worthy of a general planning a campaign. "One for the pot," said Clowes. "All right," breathed Trevor. "Come and help, you slacker." "Too busy." "You aren't doing a stroke." "My lad, I'm thinking of Life. That's a thing you couldn't do. I often say to people, 'Good chap, Trevor, but can't think of Life.
The Boche was still pressing on, though his impetus was slacker. If he knew how little there was to stop him in my section he might make a push which would carry him to Amiens. Only the magnificent work of our airmen had prevented him getting that knowledge, but we couldn't keep the secrecy up for ever.
Train yourself so you will be able to centralize your thought and develop your brain power, and increase your mental energy, or you can be a slacker, a drifter, a quitter or a sleeper. It all depends on how you concentrate, or centralize your thoughts. Your thinking then becomes a fixed power and you do not waste time thinking about something that would not be good for you.
"Well, Dad, give them a little time to settle down. I have no more use for a slacker than I have for a war millionaire." "We can't stand much of that thing. Financially we are in fairly good shape. We broke even with our aeroplane work. But we have a big stock of spruce on hand high-priced stuff, too and a heavy, very heavy overhead. We shall weather it all right.
As I went back to my rooms, I thought that my education had been neglected in many ways, and that Ward had been having a much better time than I had. But I soon changed my mind and decided that he was the kind of fellow whom I should have thought a slacker at Cliborough, and I cannot put up with a man, who when he is doing one thing always wants to be doing another.
Standing behind Roy, he ran his left hand lightly up the back of his hair, gripped the extra thickness at the top, and gave it a distinct tug; friendly, but sharp enough to make Roy wince. "Slacker! Waster! You ought to have been out riding off the effects. You were jolly well going it last night. And you jolly well look it this morning.
Jean finished her parfait. Derry's was untouched. Then the music brought them again to their feet, and they danced. The Doctor smoked alone. Back of him somebody murmured, "It is Derry Drake." "Confounded slacker," said a masculine voice. Then came a warning "Hush," as Derry and Jean returned. "It is snowing," Derry told the Doctor. "I have ordered my car."
She did not like to be called a slacker, particularly by Loveday. The atmosphere was not altogether harmonious: she felt as if their thoughts were running round in circles, and had not yet met at a mutual angle of comprehension.
He led her past Lane and Blair without so much as glancing in their direction. Lane heard Blair swear. "Dare, if my mother throws Marg at that slacker, I'll block the deal if it's the last thing I ever do," he declared, violently. "And I'll help you," replied Lane, instantly. "I know Margie hates him." "Blair, your sister is in love with Holt Dalrymple." "No! Not really?
"Beastly slacker," said Linton. "Anyhow, how far are we going? I'm not going to pull all night." "If you row for about half an hour without exerting yourself and I can trust you not to do that and then look to your left, you'll see a certain hostelry, if it hasn't moved since I was last there.
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