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Updated: June 8, 2025
"Who's Dick?" hastily pushing the door close, in her alarm. "Dick's my dog. He he followed me. He's starving, too," and a sob broke from Huldah's throat. "We wouldn't hurt you, ma'am, for anything; we couldn't, we're dead-beat. I haven't had anything to eat since yesterday, and we've come miles and miles.
Piney was getting the skiff inshore fast, as Steering talked, and once Steering stopped to admire his youthful vigour. He was a strong man himself, and it was a new sensation to lie weakly admiring strength in somebody else. "Do you know, Piney, I'm dead-beat," he whispered. "You've had a good deal to stan' in more ways than one to-day," replied Piney. "What do you mean by that?" asked Steering.
Hooke, the contemporary of Newton, gave it the balance-wheel, with the spiral spring, and various escapements in succession were devised, such as the anchor, the dead-beat, the duplex, the remontoir. Provisions for the variation of temperature were introduced. It was brought to perfection eventually by Harrison and Arnold, in their hands becoming an accurate measure of the flight of time.
She is quite gay at times in a sort of artificial way, but she doesn't do any work, though she spends odd moments fooling about at the piano. She goes out morning, noon, and night, and comes back dead-beat, apparently not having enjoyed herself at all. Can you imagine Nan like that?" "Not very easily."
"Wa'al," said David, "in the fust place I knew that the Gen'ral wouldn't recommend no dead-beat nor no skin, an' I allowed that if the raw material was O.K., I could break it in; an' if it wa'n't I should find it out putty quick.
As the unflinching Armada stood slowly up the Channel a sail or two would drop out by the way, dead-beat. One night several strange sail passed suddenly by Drake. What should he do?
Times were hard with Mrs Aspinall. Two coppers and two half-pence in her purse were threepence to her now, and the absence of one of the half-pence made a difference to her, especially in Paddy's market that eloquent advertisement of a young city's sin and poverty and rotten wealth on Saturday night. She counted the coppers as anxiously and nervously as a thirsty dead-beat does.
"If we had some rope and pulleys we could get the animals out without much difficulty," reflected Janus. "But how to do it now I don't know. I swum! I'm dead-beat." "Can you lift?" questioned Jane. "Tolerable." "Then why not pick up first one fore-foot, then another, and place them on the planks. You'll see what the horses will do then." Janus scratched his head and fingered his beard.
"And to think what MY lovely face will be like, when I see him walking out!" exulted the Master. "Laddie, come over here. We've got the gorgeousest news ever! Come over and be glad!" Lad, at the summons, came trotting out of his cave, and across the room. Like every good dog who has been much talked to, he was as adept as any dead-beat in reading the varying shades of the human voice.
The men lay under canvas, dead-beat, half-naked, without the power to do anything except to fight like thirst-maddened dogs for a draught at the shallow stream that they and their breathless horses soon drained dry. Even Raoul de Chateauroy, though his frame was like an Arab's, and knit into Arab endurance, was stretched like a great bloodhound, chained by the sultry oppression.
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