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Running to her, he hid his face in her lap he, the head of the family, the imperturbable adventurer, changed to a child. And Mother, she who had always looked to him for inspiration, was indeed the mother now. She stroked his cheek, she cried, "Never mind 'course you'll get it back, or a better one!" She made fun of his tousled hair till she had him ruefully smiling.
What kind do you use?" She told him. Instinctively she took a fancy to this little man, whose flannel shirt and faded purple necktie, whose blue, unshaven face and tousled black hair seemed incongruous with an alert, business-like, and efficient manner.
"The major's asleep in that dug-out," volunteered Beale of A, pointing to a hole in a bank that allowed at least two feet of air space above Major Bullivant's recumbent form. The major was unshaven; his fair hair was tousled. He had turned up the collar of his British warm. Beale also looked unkempt, but he said he had had three hours' sleep before the barrage started and felt quite fresh.
Lars Peter went up to the auctioneer. Every one knew what he wanted; they pushed nearer to see the rag and bone man humiliated. He lifted his dented old hat, and rubbed his tousled head. "I only wanted to say" his big voice rang to the furthermost corners "that if the auctioneer and his clerk would take us as we are, there's food and beer indoors you are welcome to a cup of coffee too."
He laughed as he tossed the tousled yellow hair from his face, and looked over his shoulder to speak to the infant. "It air sech a plumb special delightsome peach, it air, it air!" The pale face of the child lighted up with a smile of recognition and a faint gleam of mirth. "I jes' kem out ennyhows ter drive up the cow," Basil added. "Big job," sneered Kennedy.
One realizes the debt of the ordinary man to clothes, and how fortunate it is for society that commonly people do not see each other in the morning until art has done its best for them. To meet the public eye, cross and tousled and disarranged, requires either indifference or courage. It is disenchanting to some of our cherished ideals.
A man was sitting in a chair in the center of the room. His back was toward her. He was a big man. His broad shoulders loomed immense above the back of the rude chair. A shock of black hair, rumpled and tousled, covered a well-shaped head. At the sound of the door creaking upon its hinges he turned his face in her direction, and as his eyes met hers all four went wide in surprise and incredulity.
The judges, so-called, are five villainous individuals, wearing dirty-looking plumed hats, black jerkins and breeches, and tall jack boots. The shaggy-haired Jacques-Forget-Not presides. A frowsy public prosecutor red, white and blue cockade affixed to his tousled hat plume calls the names of the accused and presents the charge.
She looked from one to the other, like a trapped little animal. She put a hand to her tousled head. "That's all right," Angie Hatton assured her. "You can fix it after a while."
The crying increased, and then they all saw a little girl sitting on a stone under a tree, sobbing as if her heart would break. Betty hurried up to the tot. "What is the matter?" she asked, pillowing the tousled yellow head on her arm. "I I'se losted!" sobbed the little girl "P'ease take me home! I'se losted!" "What are we to do?" asked Amy, in dismay.
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