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The verse has caught something of its affluent flow, its wavelike career, wave advancing upon wave, from Shelley: 'Tis he, I ken the manner of his gait; He rises on the toe; that spirit of his In aspiration lifts him from the earth. The aspiration in Browning's later verse is a complex of many forces; here it is a simple poetic enthusiasm.
"We were talking along; and then he seemed to quit talking. I looked up. The pistol was at my head; I knocked it away as he fired. It got my hand!" He stopped, began poking the gravel with his toe, and smiled again as one who has heard an old story and wants to be polite. To Henry and me, it was unbelievable.
"Good start, bad ending," he said. "This is certainly the biggest pair of shoes that I ever had on, Dick. They feel at least a mile long to me." "I know that mine are a mile long," said Dick, as he, too, brought the toe of one shoe down upon the heel of the other, staggered, fell over sideways, but managed to right himself in time.
I had even to take a step out of his way, not to be brushed by his fur shoulder, so wide he was in his expensive motoring coat; and trembling from the shock, I awkwardly collided with Lady Turnour. She, in her turn, avoiding my onslaught as if I'd been a beggar in rags, stepped on Monsieur Charretier's toe. He exclaimed in French, she apologized in English.
"Aunt Luceba," said Isabel suddenly, "was aunt Eliza hard to live with? Did you and aunt Mary Ellen have to toe the mark?" "Don't you say one word," answered her aunt hastily. "That's all past an' gone. There ain't no way of settlin' old scores but buryin' of 'em. She was older 'n we were, an' on'y a step-sister, arter all. We must think o' that.
In his hand, with staff resting on his toe, he carried an old standard so torn and tattered and stained that it was scarcely recognizable as a flag. I did not for a moment take in that it was he, for he was not in the gray jacket which I had expected to see. He was busy looking down at the throng on the sidewalk, apparently searching for some one whom he expected to find there.
Gabriel Parsons gave his friend an admonitory tread on the toe. Here was a clear hint that the sooner he ceased to be a bachelor and emancipated himself from such penalties, the better. Mr. Watkins Tottle viewed the observation in the same light, and challenged Mrs. Parsons to take wine, with a degree of presence of mind, which, under all the circumstances, was really extraordinary.
Each of three Indians had upon his shoulders one of the canoes, his head within its hot and darkening sides, its bow pointing forward high in the air and its stern hanging low behind his heels. The other two squatted upon heel and toe, drew the broad strap of their carrying-thongs over their foreheads, and with a plunge and a grunt sprang to their feet, each with a great hump of six score pounds.
My invitation to lunch had been given on the spur of the moment and with no idea that it would be accepted. And she not only accepted, but had expected me to invite her, had been fearful that I might not do so. She told me so, herself. "Shall I unpack the basket?" she repeated. She was looking at me intently and the toe of her riding boot was patting the leaves. "What is the matter?
Having chosen Skis, and ensured that the toe irons and binding fit you, go out to some gentle slope of about 10° with soft snow, if possible. Set your Skis at right angles to, or across, the fall of the slope before putting them on, because Skis are quite apt to go off alone if pointing down, hill.
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