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A sharp twang, and the missile flew through my hair between my right ear and my hat-rim. The boy then sprang forward, and raised a knife as if to hamstring the pony. But it was not to be, for a carbine spoke, and the raised arm of the Indian fell at his side. "Well done, Frank!" I called.
Gessler came, still talking of his plans to seize Tell, and without a dream of danger, for the pass was silent and seemed deserted. But suddenly to his ears came the twang of the bow he had heard before that day; through the air once more winged its way a steel-barbed shaft, the heart of a tyrant, not an apple on a child's head, now its mark.
My mind was concentrated upon him, the twang of whose bowstring and the sound of whose palms Indra himself was unable to bear. I was thinking of him who fought continually for three and twenty days with Rama himself of Bhrigu's race and whom Rama was unable to overcome. It was for this that I had centered my mind upon him.
The next instant, with a mighty twang, and a quiver that made the great stock stir on its bed of rocks, the bow sprang to its lesser tension, hurling the arrow outwards and upwards in a vast arc.
The atmosphere around the Duluth Municipal Airport was closely akin to Santa Anita the instant the starting gates open. I've been around when jet interceptors scramble and you can twang the tension with your finger. As the people on the ground watched they could first see the flame of the jet's afterburner disappear into the night.
Each hunt was determined to take the shine out of the other. 'Twang, twang, twang! 'Tweet, tweet, tweet! went his lordship's and Frostyface's horns, as they came bounding over the gorse to the spot, with the eager pack rushing at their horses' heels.
Miss Lander makes a bust The twang of his native place Wholly unlike anybody else Wise, humorous Sarah Clarke Back to the Gods and the Fleas Horace Mann's statue Miss Bremer and the Tarpeian Rock "I was in a state of some little tremor" Mrs.
The tone, too, must always arrest attention, for it is of the nasal quality I have mentioned. The first baby whisper, hardly heard at the foot of the tree, has a squeaky twang, which strengthens with the infant's strength, and the grown-up murmurs of love and screams of war are of the same order.
Few men in literature have felt the burden of the world, the weight of the inexorable conscience, as has Carlyle, or drawn such fresh inspiration from that source. Certainly not in contemporary British literature is there another writer whose bowstring has such a twang.
'Put 'n on taable. Now, then, pipe up! 'What will 'ee ha'? 'Mary; gi' us Mary. 'I shall make a' girls cry, quoth Blackbird, with a grin. 'Do'n good, too; they likes it: zing away. And the boy began, in a broad country twang, which could not overpower the sad melody of the air, or the rich sweetness of his flute-like voice,
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