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Updated: June 15, 2025
Then she would go back and lo! there prone on the sand, his rough muzzle on Stair's knees, his big brown eyes under shaggy bristles of eyebrow, gazing up into his master's face, lay Whitefoot. Only, such was the fineness of his breeding and the delicacy of his sheep-dog instinct, that he rose instantly when he heard Patsy's returning footsteps, and took himself out of the way.
The near prospect of being acted laid a finger even on the lip of inquiry; he wanted to go on tiptoe till the first night, to make no condition but that they should speak his lines, and he felt that he wouldn't so much as raise an eyebrow at the scene-painter if he should give him an old oak chamber.
The black velvet band about her white hair had slipped down and now crossed her brow transversely a little above one bushy eyebrow, giving an inconceivably rakish appearance to her face. She held a small urchin, evidently from the Grassmarket or the Cowgate, firmly by the cuff of his ragged jacket. She was threatening him with her great blue umbrella.
One after another, she let them go by, searching their faces, deterred at the very last moment by some trifling variation of expression, a firm set mouth, a serious, level eyebrow, an advancing chin. Then, twice, when she had made a choice, and brought her resolution to the point of speech, she quailed, shrinking, her ears tingling, her whole being protesting against the degradation.
I do not know how I came to work myself into such a state of mind on the way up town, but as I stepped from the horse-car and turned into Clinton Place I had a strong apprehension that I should find some unpleasant change in the facial aspect of the little red brick building I occupied- -a scowl, for instance, on the brown-stone eyebrow over the front door.
Wid that I gave him both, one after the other, smash through the low gyard that he'd been taught whin he was a boy, an' the eyebrow shut down on the cheek-bone like the wing av a sick crow. "Will ye hear reason now, ye brave man?" sez I. "Not whoile I can speak," sez he, staggerin' up blind as a stump.
When the last snow avalanche has slipped from the high-pitched roof, and the gentian is bluer than the sky, and Baldur's Eyebrow blossoms in the hot Spring sun, pious folk are wont to come to church some time before service, and to bring their spades, and rakes, and watering-pots with them, to tend the graves of the dead. The Kyrkegrim sits on the Lych Gate and overlooks them.
See him with his goold watch chain clankin' again th' pearl buttons iv his vest. He niver give me much more thin a nod out iv th' north-east corner iv his left eyebrow, but he was always very kind an' polite to Mulligan, th' little tailor. Except that I thought he had a feelin' iv respect f'r me an' none at all f'r Mulligan.
So they fancied that the thunder was a god, and called him Thor and the dark thunder cloud was Thor's frowning eyebrow; and the lightning flash Thor's hammer, with which he split the rocks, and melted the winter-ice and drove away the cold of winter, and made the land ready for tillage.
"We ain't lookin' for trouble, Slim," Fatty quavered. "Who in hell are you to call me 'Slim'?" came the snarling answer. "Me? I'm just Fatty, an' seein' 's I never seen you before " "An' I suppose that's Whiskers, there, with the gay an' festive lamp tan-going into his eyebrow an' the God-forgive-us nose joy- riding all over his mug?" "It'll do, it'll do," Whiskers muttered uncomfortably.
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