Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 9, 2025
Bert jerked with a sudden jolt of the train and missed. "Striker's out!" called the umpire, while everybody laughed because the boy had missed first. Then Bert had to go all the way back to center, while Nan was four seats down. Three more balls were passed, then Nan missed. "I shouldn't have to go all the way back for the miss," protested Nan. "You went three seats back, so I'll go three back."
"March up and down in front of a factory and try to keep scabs out." "What are scabs?" asked ignorant Myra. Rhona was amazed. "You don't even know that? Why, a scab's a girl who tries to take a striker's job and so ruin the strike. She takes the bread out of our mouths." "But how can you stop her?" "Talk to her! We're not allowed to use violence." "How do you do it?"
"At any rate, it was not your mother," he said. "I have Striker's permission to expose what you call his treachery. He thought it was his duty to tell me under the circumstances. And while I am about it, I may as well say that I think you conspired to take a pretty mean advantage of those good and faithful friends. You deceived them in a most outrageous manner.
The arm struck, to its full length. But it did not reach its mark, nor return to the striker's side. By a queerly crablike shift of his wiry body, the Jap had eluded the blow, and had fastened upon the arm, above the elbow and at the wrist.
Rome is an evil word, in my mother's vocabulary, to be said in a whisper, as you 'd say 'damnation. Northampton is in the centre of the earth and Rome far away in outlying dusk, into which it can do no Christian any good to penetrate. And there was I but yesterday a doomed habitue of that repository of every virtue, Mr. Striker's office!" "And does Mr.
Jorrigan, and Jorrigan was overjoyed; but Bobbie destroyed his good work by adding, 'Jorrigan the striker, and the striker's joy vanished. 'Who told you that? said he. 'Pop and he knows, said Bobbie.
"Hah!" He drove the boathook down with all his might, striking the great fish just as it was slowly rising toward the surface, close to the boat; and so well aimed was the stroke, that there was a tremendous swirl in the water, the side near Jem resounded with a heavy blow from the fish's tail, and the boathook seemed to be snatched out of the striker's hand to go slowly sailing away oceanward.
It was a cloudless August day; Rowland always remembered it, and the scene, and everything that was said and done, with extraordinary distinctness. Roderick surpassed himself in friendly jollity, and at one moment, when exhilaration was at the highest, was seen in Mr. Striker's high white hat, drinking champagne from a broken tea-cup to Mr. Striker's health.
He was tall and straight and his figure was shapely, despite the thick blue cape that hung from his shoulders. "I guess they ain't any dirtier than Phin Striker's boots are this time o' the year. Put them over here, boy, 'longside o' that cupboard. Supper'll be ready in ten or fifteen minutes, Mr. Gwynne." His smile broadened. He sniffed gratefully.
"You were at Phineas Striker's last night?" "Yes. We had lost our way and came to his place just before the storm," said Kenneth, watching his companion narrowly. Lapelle's face was a study. Doubt, indecision, even dismay, were expressed in swift succession. "Then you must have met, but no, it isn't likely," he said, in some confusion.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking