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The man in question seemed, in later years, a sturdily built clergyman, slow and cautious of speech, brusque and even grim of address, sensible, devoted to commonplace activities, and with a due appreciation of the comforts and conveniences of life. His conversation had no suggestiveness or subtlety. He was grumpy in the morning and good-humoured in the evening.
A religion of just being kind would be a pretty good religion, don't you think so? But a religion of kindness and useful effort is nearly a perfect religion. We used to think it was a man's belief concerning a dogma that would fix his place in eternity. This was because we believed that God was a grumpy, grouchy old gentleman, stupid, touchy and dictatorial.
So it is not surprising that his big black eyes snapped nor that he said something in a fierce voice that sounded like "Chip, chip, chip," but meant something a good deal worse. And to add to Grumpy Weasel's rage, somebody had laughed hoarsely somebody that sat in a tall elm across the road. If he could have caught Mr.
It's a good thing to know." You can see that Mr. Chippy was a very humble person. But Mr. Jolly Robin's eldest son was quite proud. Already he began to feel that he had been very skilful in escaping. But of course it was only an accident that he got away. For once in his life Grumpy Weasel had been careless. It had looked so easy catching that clumsy young robin!
Might it not have been a waterspout, or a bit of floating wreck, which you saw in the fog?" Jim Newman got grumpy at once, at the bare insinuation of such a thing. "Waterspouts and bits of wreck," said he sarcastically, "generally travel at the rate of twenty miles an hour when there is no wind to move them along, and a dead calm, don't they?
He often wished that Solomon Owl and Henry Hawk would leave the neighborhood and never return. That was because they liked to hunt him. Especially did Grumpy Weasel dislike Henry Hawk, who had an unpleasant habit of sitting motionless on a limb in the top of some great tree. If Henry Hawk saw anything anywhere that interested him he lost no time in reaching that place.
She could not help feeling happier for Betty Leicester's coming. She knew that she had been a little grumpy to the child; but Betty had luckily not been discomforted by it, and had even thought, as she ran across the street in the dark evening and up the long front walk, that Becky's mother was not half so disapproving as she used to be.
"A little grumpy at having so much to do," said Ronder, "but she'll get over it." "I'm afraid she's a little ill-tempered at times," said Miss Stiles with satisfaction. "I thought when I came in that she looked out of sorts. Troubles never come singly, of course." All was well now and Miss Stiles completely satisfied.
Inga followed these instructions and when Klik appeared in answer to his summons the boy requested an audience of the Nome King. So Klik led them into the presence of King Kaliko, who was suffering from a severe headache, due to his revelry the night before, and therefore was unusually cross and grumpy. "I know what you've come for," said he, before Inga could speak.
On the way back we met old Yule; he seemed rather grumpy, I thought. I don't think she's the kind of girl to make a paying business of literature. Her qualities are personal. And it's pretty clear to me that the valley of the shadow of books by no means agrees with her disposition. Possibly old Yule is something of a tyrant. 'He doesn't impress me very favourably.
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