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Updated: May 12, 2025
Somehow, as she stood and gazed at Master Meadow Mouse the kitten thought he was growing bigger every moment. She began to feel uneasy about pouncing on him. It was one thing to clap a paw down on the back of somebody that was running away from her. And it was an entirely different matter to seize a person that didn't try to escape, but faced her almost boldly.
Plying his almost unequalled strength of wing, he ascended high and higher in the air, by short gyrations, that the hawk might gain no vantage ground for pouncing at him; while his spiked beak, at the extremity of so long a neck as enabled him to strike an object at a yard's distance in every direction, possessed for any less spirited assailant all the terrors of a Moorish javelin.
If his Royal Highness think of breaking in, he may count on a very warm reception indeed. "Saxe is only afraid his Royal Highness will not. Outside of these lines, with a 50,000 dashing fiercely round us, under any kind of leading; pouncing on our convoys; harassing and sieging US, our siege of Toumay were a sad outlook.
Like most parents, he enjoyed the game of waiting till the victim was clearly wrong, then virtuously pouncing. He justified himself by croaking, "Well, Ted's mother spoils him. Got to be somebody who tells him what's what, and me, I'm elected the goat.
"What may that be?" said Vautrin, pouncing on a letter in Christophe's hand. "Mme. la Comtesse Anastasie de Restaud," he read. "Where are you going with it?" he added, as he gave the letter back to Christophe. "To the Rue du Helder. I have orders to give this into her hands myself." "What is there inside it?" said Vautrin, holding the letter up to the light. "A banknote? No."
The terror of his name, which grew among the Whigs of the Back Country until the wildest legends about his ferocity were current, was due chiefly to a habit he had of pouncing on his foes in the middle of the night and pulling them out of bed to give fight or die. It was generally both fight and die, for these dark adventures of his were particularly successful.
"Your Excellency," cried Madame Shtchukin, pouncing upon Kistunov. I am a weak, defenceless woman. . . . My husband is a collegiate assessor, and I am a major's daughter myself!" "Very good, madam," moaned Kistunov. "I will go into it . . . I will take steps. . . . Go away . . . later!" "And when shall I get the money, your Excellency? I need it to-day!"
While daylight lasted the men inside watched Osman Digna's seemingly innumerable soldiers dodging about, and when night fell the knowledge that they were there unseen, and might attack on all sides at any moment, was really calculated to try the nerves. For there is nothing more unpleasant than the idea of any one pouncing upon you suddenly in the dark.
Galloway to say, "Now for it," and to put his hand stealthily upon the door-handle, with the intention of pouncing suddenly upon his itinerant pupil. But the door would not open. Mr. Galloway turned, and turned, and shook the handle, as our respected friend Mr. Ketch did when he was locked up in the cloisters, but he turned it to no purpose. "He has not come yet!" wrathfully exclaimed Mr.
If she be in her town house she and her maids take out her dresses and furs from their great chests and spread them in the sun in the garden or courtyard to air, beating them with little rods, shaking them in the breeze, taking out spots and stains with one or other of the master's tried recipes, pouncing with lynx eyes upon the moth or sprightly flea.
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