United States or Timor-Leste ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !


Massed humanity overflowed the sidewalks and seemed to bend beneath the weight of sunlight upon their heads and shoulders. A truck ploughed a furrow through push-carts that rolled back to the curb like a wave crested with crude yellow, red, green, and orange merchandise.

"The gentleman is somewhat eccentric," she remarked; "but he will make no mistake in coming to this delightful place, if he wishes quiet and rest." "Don't know what he's after, I'm sure," replied the man. "But he's sent down enough furniture an' truck to stock a hotel, an' I want to know ef you'll go over an' put it in the rooms, an' straighten things out." "Me!" "Why, yes.

Of danger there is none in this ship, as long as we can keep clear of the land, and in order that this may be done, I will just step into my state-room, and find out exactly where we are." On receiving this information, the passengers retired for the night, Captain Truck setting about his task in good earnest.

"It's just a toss up now, whether we'll have it or not," whispered Jorrocks to me as we stood side by side together on the poop, watching the skipper, whose eyes were as intently riveted on the dog-vane at the main truck above. Just at this moment, Mr Macdougall came lazily sauntering up the poop ladder.

In less than five minutes every frame was piled upon the truck, and the two bearded fellows, the most recent additions to the studio, harnessed themselves to it like cattle and drew it along with all their strength, the others vociferating, and pushing from behind.

Then a barricade lay ahead. The truck faltered as it hit the nearly finished obstacle, and Gordon felt his stomach squashing down onto the wheel. He kept his foot to the floor, strewing bits of the barricade behind him, until he was beyond the range of the Legal guns that were firing suddenly. Then he stopped and got out carefully, with his hands up.

The westerly wind was dead aft, which made us roll a bit; but we "carried on," with the ship covered with sail from truck to kelson and stu'n'sails all the way up both on our weather side and to leeward, as well as spinnakers and a lot of other things in the sail line whose names I can't remember.

At Headquarters they were becoming anxious about the non-appearance of the truck and started out in the touring car to locate it. Commencing at Jouey-les-Cotes they went from there to Boucq and Raulecourt, which were the last places the truck was to visit. Not hearing of it at Raulecourt, the search was continued out to Bouconville, again, by a short road. Montsec was in full view.

A convenient sort of harness is used on the oxen, not unlike, in style, that on our truck horses. One driver a half-breed usually manages a half-dozen teams by tying the heads of the five to the rear of each cart and then leading the sixth or foremost team by means of a raw-hide rope attached to the animal's head. One thousand pounds constitutes a load for a strong ox.

We soon learned that she was a French ship, the big `L'Orient, with which the `Billyruffian' had been engaged. Never did I see such a sight; in a few minutes she was just one mass of flame, from her truck to the water's edge.