United States or Sweden ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !


It made me tremble, and when the voice came down to earth, trembling a little as it went back into the church and was swept up by the sound of the harmonium again, I began to cry, sobbing as though I were quite a little girl. Then Madeleine's sharp voice pierced through the others once more, and I swept and swept hard as though my broom could scratch out the voice which was so disagreeable to me.

He had just finished this soliloquy as he entered the apartment of his master, who desired to know what was become of his armour. Timothy, understanding that it had been left in the room when the knight undressed, began to scratch his head in great perplexity; and at last declared it as his opinion, that it must have been carried off by witchcraft.

It seemed so horrid to have to dress and go out in such a downpour of rain, that we weakly deliberated on the expediency of letting the cunning old stock-horse remain; but fortunately, at that moment he began to scratch his ear with his hind foot, waking up a thousand echoes against the side of the house as he did so, and making the pictures dance again on the canvas and paper walls.

All the luxuriant splendor of the departing winter was there the overtolerant world of pleasure, the scratch gathering a hostess can get together after a first introduction, the sort of society, in fact, in which great names and great shames jostle together in the same fierce quest of enjoyment.

"This reason methinks is the true chimera, and never spawned anything but fables. Take these gold bars, which I cast in this form yesterday, after extracting the metal last week from some lead: there lies a touchstone; scratch it; and then tell me whether it is not true genuine gold." Edward took up the bars, put them to the test, and found them genuine.

"Why did you not tell me of this yesterday?" asked Murden, beckoning to me, and whispering in a low tone. "Because we were fearful that you would interrupt the proceedings," I replied. "I certainly should have done so. Are you aware that Wattles is a most experienced and successful duellist? That he has been out half a dozen times, and always came off without so much as a scratch?"

Tribb, with a determined look on her face, went away to prepare these delicacies. "My dear! my dear!" murmured Agnes again when the door closed. "You should have sent for me." "Nonsense," answered Lambert, smoothing her hair. "I'm not a child to cry out at the least scratch. It's only an attack of my old malarial fever, and I shall be all right in a few days."

If I had the framin' of the Governor's message, if I wouldn't show 'em how to put timber together you may depend, I'd make 'em scratch their heads and stare, I know.

"Mr. Dodd, now I am no longer afraid. I am, oh, so sleepy." "No wonder go to sleep. It is the best thing you can do." "Thank you, sir. I am aware my conversation is not very interesting." Having administered this sudden bloodless scratch, to show that, at sea or ashore, in fair weather or foul, she retained her sex, Lucy disposed herself to sleep.

She looked at him with mutiny on her face. "All right, slave driver," she muttered as she picked up the clothing, "but I hope you'll itch someday and be unable to scratch." "And try to wear those garments more gracefully. You make them look like a sack." "They feel like one. I keep thinking that all I need is a tag around my neck." "You haven't much time to get used to them," Kennon said.