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Updated: May 28, 2025
They show him the pictures and quote prices on the hoof which are low, but look what even a runt of a yearling whale that was calved late in the fall would weigh on the scales! and no worry about fences or free range or winter feeding or water holes; nothing to do but ride round on your private steamboat with a good orchestra, and a chance to be dissolute and count your money.
"No, it wasn't Hans, because I know him well, and he's a little runt of a Dutchman, but a fighter from the word go; and my father knows nobody's going to get away with those boxes of the professor while Hans and his musket, that was used in the Civil War, are on guard. That was a tall man, and he ran like he'd just heard us coming, and wanted to hide.
Poor Runt came back the next day in a piteous plight, keeping silence as to his share in the occurrences of the evening, and with a dismal story of having been drunk, of having been waylaid and bound, of having been left on the road and picked up by a Wicklow cart, which was coming in with provisions to Dublin, and found him helpless on the road.
Whitford " Kitty bogged down. Beatrice blushed. Little dimples came out with her smile. "I think I'd better let Clay explain." "We were married two days ago, Kitty." "What!" shouted the Runt. "We intended to ask you both to the wedding, but when Johnnie proposed to abduct Miss Whitford, I thought it a pity not to let him. So we " Johnnie fell on him and beat him with both fists.
Though poets of our time have not troubled themselves much with philosophical explanations of the phenomenon, they seem to concur in the Platonic reasoning of their father Spenser, who argues, What an absurd test! one is likely to exclaim, thinking of a swarthy Sappho, a fat Chaucer, a bald Shakespeare, a runt Pope, a club-footed Byron, and so on, almost ad infinitum.
USTÍNYA NAÚMOVNA. Well, well, if you've got your mind set on a nobleman, we'll find you one. What sort do you want; rather stout, or rather lean? LÍPOCHKA. Doesn't matter, it's all right if he's rather stout, so long as he's no shorty. Of course he'd better be tall than an insignificant little runt!
"I guess we understand each other, sonny," he said haltingly. "I've wanted a son like you, Matt. Had a boy once little chap just seven when he died might have been big like you. I was the runt of the Ricks' tribe, you know all the other boys over six feet and his mother's people same stock. Matt patted his shoulder. Truly he understood.
"I wouldn't stand for that if I were you." "Oh, ye wouldn't, hey? Well, we'll see what ye stand for soon's ye come out into the clear that's what we'll see, Thirkle." "It's rotten mean," whimpered Petrak. "I wouldn't do the likes o' that to ye, Bucky; not if ye never agreed along with me it's rotten mean." "Ye'll get worse as that is. Now, does gold rust, ye little runt? Say it! Does gold rust?"
Hopalong looked at him in the eyes and quietly replied: "An' who th' deuce are yu?" The stranger's eyes blazed and his face wrinkled with rage as he aggressively shoved his jaw close to Hopalong's face. "Yu runt, I'm a better man than yu even if yu do wear hair pants," referring to Hopalong's chaps. "Yu cow-wrastlers make me tired, an' I'm goin' to show yu that this town is too good for you.
I, Alden P. Ricks, whose great-grandfather died at Yorktown, whose grandfather was killed at Lundy's Lane, whose father won a medal of honor at Chapultepec I, Alden P. Ricks, who had to belong to the Home Guard because I was such a little runt they wouldn't take me in the Civil War to think that I should attain to seventy years and even be suspected of staining the flag of my country for the sake of a few dirty dollars after all the Ricks blood that has been shed for that flag!
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