Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 6, 2025
The hands that touched the polished wheel trembled and she slipped back to the ground again, her face white. "I can't I can't drive him," she said and burst into tears upon Blackie's shoulder. So Blackie drove the car himself and left his general to wipe Vera's eyes. A month later Captain Blackie went to Havre to see Tam en route for home.
His own right hand went its swift, sure way to the gun swinging loose in its holster under his left arm pit; he jabbed it forward even as he swung himself to one side in the saddle, and fired. The revolver slipped from Blackie's hand and clattered down to the bed of the wagon while Blackie, crying out chokingly, his face going white with fear, clutched at his shoulder and gave up the fight.
Missel, a good flyer, was outfought by three opponents and slid home with a dead observer, limp and smiling in the fuselage. "To-morrow at daybreak, look for Tam amongst the stars," said that worthy young man as he backed out of Blackie's office, "the disgustin' incivility o' the Hoon has aroosed the fichtin' spirit o' the dead-an'-gone MacTavishes.
This, Boswell says, disturbed him.... There was no echo; such is the fidelity of report. Piozzi Letters, i. 156. 'Law or low signifies a hill: ex. gr. Wardlaw, guard hill, Houndslow, the dog's hill. Blackie's Etymological Geography, p. 103. Pepys often mentions them.
"And I've had a fine time." "It's easy to see," said Mrs. Pig, "that you're a born wallower. It's a pity that you haven't your brother Blackie's complexion. The dirt does show so dreadfully on silver bristles!" All the farmyard folk agreed that Farmer Green took the best of care of everybody. Mrs. Pig often told her children that they were lucky to have so good a home.
It was Blackie who harnessed Tam's genius for description to the pencil of a stenographer, and thereafter, when a long report was needed by Headquarters, there would appear at Tam's quarters one Corporal Alexander Brown, Blackie's secretary, and an amiable cockney who wrote mystic characters in a notebook with great rapidity.
I rolled into my bunk, and turned my face to the wall. My wits were still spinning from shock, and I didn't want to answer questions. "Where did Big 'Un go?" came from Blackie's bunk. "How do I know? Stow the guff, the lot of you; I want to sleep." But I didn't sleep. I lay there thinking about the face I had seen. Nils' shadow, Nils' clothes and the lady's face!
Mister Fitz was holding a lantern, and Mister Lynch had his hands free for business. He met Blackie's egress with a careless jab of his fist that up-ended the unfortunate stiff, and the injunction, "Hearty, now, you swabs! Lay aft!" I quickly sidestepped out of the second mate's range, in case he should aim a blow at me, and started to obey the command to lay aft.
She filled the paper cone, inserted the point of it into one end of a hollow pastry horn, and gently squeezed. Presto! A cream-filled Hornchen! "Oh, Blackie!" I gasped. "Come on. I want to go in and eat." As we elbowed our way to the rear room separated from the front shop only by a flimsy wooden partition, I expected I know not what. But surely this was not Blackie's much-vaunted Baumbach's!
Then, with an inarticulate moan, she ran into the grove and grasped Blackie's rope, and dragged at him trying to make him run with her to her saddle and few belongings. The saddle nearly overmastered her; it was heavy, and she knew as little of it as did any city girl. But her need was sore and her young body not without supple strength.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking