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At least, the Russian policeman said so, and that is very nearly what the Tatars did. They kicked off the stiff leather slippers in which they scuff about, and entered in their tall boots, with the inset of frosted green pebbled horsehide in the heel, and soft soles, like socks.
The Cap'n, with chin over his shoulder, saw Mr. Crymble scuff aside some frozen dirt in a corner of the barnyard, raise a plank with his bony fingers and insert his slender figure into the crevice disclosed, with all the suppleness of a snake. The plank dropped over his head, and his hiding-place was hidden. But while he and Hiram stood looking at the place where Mr.
The boys waved, and with a scuff of their snow-shoes were off. The climb was indeed a stiff one. At first the trail led through low, flat woods, fragrant with hemlock and balsam; here it was sheltered and warm. But soon the real ascent began. "We follow the bed of this brook almost to the top," explained Bob who was leading the way. "We come into it here, you see.
"I mean that Keith ain't goin' to get that good red blood he's needin' sittin' 'round the house here. He's got to go off in the woods an' walk an' tramp an' run an' scuff leaves. An' you've got to go with him. I can't, can I?" The man shifted his position irritably. "Do you think that boy will let me lead him through the streets, Susan? Well, I know he won't."
The two children spoke out in their mother's tongue, clamoring for the story of the Good Beaver who saved the hunter's life, and she began, this time in the language of the Yukon people, while Gale listened to the low music of her voice, muffled and broken by the log partition. His squaw came in, her arrival unannounced except by the scuff of her moccasins, and seated herself against the wall.
There was a pause during which she continued to scuff the curbstone with her shoe, Jane likewise scuffing the fence-picket. "I'm goin' to have papa get him arrested," added the stranger. "My papa got two men arrested once," Jane said, calmly. "Two or three."
The dirt is loose there, like it was in the road at Johnnie Blake's in the country. I could scuff it with my shoes." "You could scuff it and I could wear myself out cleanin', I suppose," retorted Jane. "And like as not run the risk of gittin' some bad germs on my hands, and dyin' of 'em.
In the joy of being out of doors, of having real dirt to scuff in, and high grass through which to brush; of having a plaid gingham with a pocket, and all the fizzing drink she wished; of being able to dabble and wade; and of having good, squashy soda-mud for pies in the joy at all this she had utterly forgotten them!
How can one tell where one picks up ideas? They are like pebbles in our pathway; sometimes we never even see them, but carelessly scuff them aside as we walk. Then the sun of somebody's genius shines out and shows them to be gems, and we hasten to pick them up and claim them for our own. I have been taught when to watch for the sun's shining that's all!"
The only sound through the scuff and tramp of the jurors' feet was Normando's lunatic murmuring. As for the leader of the band, he sat as if graven in stone; but, despite his iron control, a pallor had crept up beneath his skin. Blake heard Bernie whisper: "Look! They know they're lost." "Gentlemen of the jury, have you agreed upon a verdict?" came the voice of the judge. The foreman rose.
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