United States or Sint Maarten ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"I can just see old Bill sitting in the mud a-combing his 'air and singing." They 'ad some more talk o' that sort, just to show each other 'ow funny they was, but they went off at last, and I fastened up the gate and went into the office to clean myself up as well as I could.
You could not call it a stride. It was like the "crest-tossing Bellerophon," a kind of prancing gait. Guy Heavystone pranced toward me. "Lord Lovel he stood at the garden gate, A-combing his milk-white steed." It was the winter of 186- when I next met Guy Heavystone. He had left the university and had entered the 79th "Heavies."
You could not call it a stride. It was like the "crest-tossing Bellerophon," a kind of prancing gait. Guy Heavystone pranced toward me. "Lord Lovel he stood at the garden gate, A-combing his milk-white steed." It was the winter of 186- when I next met Guy Heavystone. He had left the University and had entered the 76th "Heavies."
The wreck was more horribly realistic than ever, this time, because of our rehearsal; and when I crawled from under the masts and sails to seat myself on the beach with the Wrig, I had scarcely strength enough to remove the cooky from her hand and set her a-combing her curly locks.
Word Of The Day