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"Well, all I've got to do is to sit here till he comes back; then I'll see who it is." "He may not come back before you have to go." "Guess you got me THAT time," Malone admitted, laughing as he rose. "They're tuning up, and I've got this dance. I AM coming around to see you some evening." He moved away, calling back over his shoulder, "Honestly, I am!" Alice did not look at him.
The carriage drew up in front of the theatre. Ottilie went into my brother-in-law's box, which forced me to try and find a seat in the pit. I had forgotten to buy a ticket, and was refused admission by the man at the door. Suddenly the tuning up of the orchestra grew louder and louder, and I thought I should have to miss the beginning of my work.
In the twinkling of an eye, as it were, they transformed what had been to all intents and purposes a concert-hall into a flower-decked ballroom, while the members of the band engaged for the dance began climbing agilely into their allotted places on the raised platform preparatory to tuning up for the evening's work.
We visited the various filling points of water carts and gradually drew nearer the front line trenches. Turning down one arm of "the tuning fork" a forked road near Festubert, we came upon an advanced dressing-station. A little to our left was a grey pile of bricks and rubble, all that remained of the village of Festubert.
He is truly a royal minstrel, and, considering his liberal distribution throughout our Atlantic seaboard, perhaps contributes more than any other bird to our sylvan melody. One may object that he spends a little too much time in tuning his instrument, yet his careless and uncertain touches reveal its rare compass and power.
Just as acoustic resonance may be simple or sympathetic so electric resonance may be simple or sympathetic. Simple acoustic resonance is the direct reinforcement of a simple vibration and this condition is had when a tuning fork is mounted on a sounding box.
It is not absurd to think of Tennyson as tuning his harp in praise of Queen Victoria: that is, it is not absurd in the same sense as Chaucer's harp hallowed by dedication to Richard II or Wordsworth's harp hallowed by dedication to George IV is absurd. Richard's court could not properly appreciate either Chaucer's daisies or his "devotion."
Soon there comes the sound of tuning the violin, while the older voice is still heard praising one thing and another, and asking careless questions. "I suppose that cotton cloth covers something that is to have a public unveiling some day, doesn't it?" Claude cannot hear the answer; the painter drops his voice even below its usual quiet tone.
"I am thinking, my dear friend, that you have some particular reason for playing the injured man, and I have read the whole tale of the Maccabees in some history or other of the Jews which you would now palm off upon the world as something new." "Your jests are most unmerciful, Countess; but may I beg of you to give that piano a little rest, especially as it wants tuning.
This lumping of people into generations and tuning your son's brain to the same pitch as his medieval ancestors' doesn't interest women that's man's performance. The great thing about a woman is her own life, isn't it? And the great event in a woman's life is when she has a child because it's hers. This class and family stuff comes from men, because their names are perpetuated, not ours.
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