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Updated: May 8, 2025
She was right in following the rules her father had laid down for her health and physical well-being, but was it right that she should wear shoes scuffed, resoled, and even patched, when there was money enough for Eileen to have many pairs of expensive laced boots, walking shoes, and fancy slippers?
There were two more books lying on the top of the case. The leather bindings were scuffed and one was scored clear across the back, yet they had been handsome, undoubtedly treasured. Drew turned them up to read the scrolled gold titles on their spines. "History of the Conquest of Mexico, The Three Musketeers, The Count of Monte Cristo ... Where’d these come from, Mister Stein?"
Now it was worn to a scaly, crumbly color of nothing at all, and it was frayed into fringes at the door and in places scuffed clear through, so that the knot-holes of the naked planking showed like staring eyes.
Just because one woman has shocked him, he says ... Never shall I be satisfied in my hatred against women.... For in some way or other they are always bad. And a little further back, too" he scuffed the leaves over "he says that woman is a great evil because men squander away the wealth of their houses upon them. If the men were such superior beings, why don't they show it somehow?
Drew remained where he was, his left arm thrown protectingly across Boyd. "Now ain't this somethin'?" The man who had booted in the door was grinning down at the two on the hearth. He wore a blue coat right enough, but it was slick with old grease across the chest, stained on one shoulder, and his breeches were linsey-woolsey, his boots old and scuffed.
Taking advantage of this diversion in the attention of her guardian, Spot had ambled off to the side of the road. The boy darted his horse after her and sent her trotting down the trail, with clicking hoofs and long, sweeping steps that scuffed up a stifling dust. "Ain't very good to heat a milker up by running 'em, son," reproved Sinclair. "I know it ain't.
The hour struck clear in the cabin; the nosing bows slapped and scuffed with the seas; the foc'sle stove-pipe hissed and sputtered as the spray caught it; and the boys slept on, while Disko, Long Jack, Tom Platt, and Uncle Salters, each in turn, stumped aft to look at the wheel, forward to see that the anchor held, or to veer out a little more cable against chafing, with a glance at the dim anchor-light between each round.
Mary V, still peering down through the goggles, shot a spurt of sand over the toe of one scuffed shoe. Bland stepped aside hastily. "I can't see well enough to be sure of missing you next time," Mary V assured him. "Generally I can shoot awfully close and miss, but I'd like to shoot you, really. You'd better crank the motor." Bland saw the hammer lift again, ominously deliberate.
And he, likewise, stared at the toe of a shoe that scuffed the ground. Herbert felt a little better; this particular subdivision of his difficulties seemed to be working out with unexpected ease. "I don't say we will and I don't say we won't," Henry added. "That's the way I look at it.
He was not an inviting person not such a new lord and master as a judge's garments might be expected to welcome. He was grossly fat and his own trousers were lashed about his bulging waist with a frayed belt; his coat was sun-faded, a greasy Scotch cap was pulled over to one side on his head with the peak hauled down upon his ear, and he scuffed along in boots that were disreputable.
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