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Updated: June 9, 2025
"My partner, whose name was Barney Keogh, and myself took many a long spin on it, and many a time had sprints with other 'speed boys' out on the road. We got so we could hit it up at a pretty hot clip, but neither of us ever thought of going into the racing game. "But one fine Sunday there was a big meet to be held at the old Newark track, in New Jersey, and we made up our minds to go see it.
And realising, if he caught the man at all, he must do one of his sprints, he covered the ground by a series of flying leaps, dashed in where he saw his prey rush; one more leap with all his might, and "I have you!" cried Tom.
"I hope you've not been waiting long?" George's heart was thundering against his ribs. He could scarcely speak. He contrived to emit a No. "I didn't think at first I could get away. I had to . . ." She broke off with a cry. The rat, fond of exercise like all rats, had made another of its excitable sprints across the floor. A hand clutched nervously at George's arm, found it and held it.
He is like a six-day bicycle racer who plugs along but every now and then sprints like mad for a few laps and then comes back to a pace that would kill the average rider. I shall not trouble to cite such a case, but I can think of at least one man of good attainments who is of this explosive hyperkinetic type.
Each felt confident of passing the necessary requirements. They had made the football team together in their freshman year. Jack had played, too, on the varsity basket-ball team for two seasons, while Ted excelled on the track in the sprints. Dinner over, the entire party repaired to the recruiting station.
Take the subject; it wasn't any of your little, sawed-off, one-year sprints. No siree! W. P. Mills started away back in the front vestibule of time. He said, right in the preface an' that was all poetry, too Now, reader, go along with me Away back to eternity, A hundred thousand years, and still Keep backing backwards if you will. He never missed a single event that was important, if true.
"Wagner has figured it out and says if they do win the sprints they'll take the cup." Will made no response though he knew that if Wagner had indeed said that, then the college would look to Mott and to himself to do their best. No praise would be too high if they should succeed, and no blame too severe if they should fail. And his own determination and desire to win for a moment faltered.
Father and mother are only waiting for a pause in your cousin's conversation long enough to throw in a word of their own before they get up." He made an expressive gesture. "You know mother's invariable rule," he chuckled, "never to get up to go at the end of one of your guest's conversational sprints, but always to wait until you can interrupt yourself, so to speak.
He just yelled: 'Hennery, this is the limit, and here is where your poor old dad sprints for tall timber, and he made for a tree, and I yelled: 'Hurry up, dad! and he said: 'I ain't walking, am I? and you ought to have seen his short legs carry him to the tree, and help him skin up it. I have seen squirrels climb trees, when a dog was after them, but they were slow compared to dad.
He kicked, but I didn't mind that. I promised to try to keep in shape to win the sprints at the intercollegiate meet." "Say! Get out there in left field! Quick!" shouted Worry.... "Peg, hit him some flies. Lam 'em a mile! That fellow's a sprinter, Peg. What luck it would be if he can play ball! Hit 'em at him!"
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