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Updated: May 31, 2025
"Let's go and see what tar-brush was talking to the interpreter about," suggested Buck, and they went at once and found the man, who had returned to his post on the platform.
The mates laughed and the men laughed also. I got the shirt and trousers, and spent a couple of hours aloft, making good use of tar-brush and grease-pot, till my clothes were as black as the rigging and as greasy as the masts. It was my first real lesson in the duty of a seaman. I am now much obliged to our worthy master.
He never even heard us talk about his lineage, deplore the length of his nose, or call him "clever-looking." We should have been ashamed to let him smell about us the tar-brush of a sense of property, to let him think we looked on him as an asset to earn us pelf or glory.
She lolled in an armchair before a crackling fire of olive wood in the room that she "lit with herself when alone," though scarcely in the Tennysonian sense. Hers was a vivid personality, and older women who disliked her called her flamboyant, and referred to an evident touch of the tar-brush that would make her socially impossible in America though it passed unnoticed in Italy.
Her throat was dry, her heart was beating painfully, she knew Roxmouth's crafty and treacherous nature, and her whole soul sickened as she realised that now he could, if he chose, drag the name of John Walden through a mire of social mud, and hold it up to ridicule among his own particular 'set, who would certainly lose no time in blackening it with their ever-ready tar-brush.
Also his physical characteristics were such as to be of the greatest assistance to him in such enterprises; for he was tall, lean, and muscular, of swarthy complexion, with thick, black, curly hair, and large, black, flashing eyes, suggesting that he carried a touch of the tar-brush, although, as a matter of fact, he had not a drop of negro blood in him.
Must be good stuff in her stays an' that, to have stood so long, with never a touch o' the tar-brush. There was more in the same vein, but this much comes back to me as though it were yesterday that I heard the words.
Well, she has; and I have mine terribly expensive." "H'm!" said Soames. "What does that chap Profond do in England?" Annette raised the eyebrows she had just finished. "He yachts." "Ah!" said Soames; "he's a sleepy chap." "Sometimes," answered Annette, and her face had a sort of quiet enjoyment. "But sometimes very amusing." "He's got a touch of the tar-brush about him."
There was a certain lack about a man who had been adopted, of reasonable guarantee he was like a non-vintage wine, or a horse without a pedigree; you could not quite rely on what he might do, having no tradition in his blood. His appearance, too, and manner somehow lent colour to this distrust. A touch of the tar-brush somewhere, and a stubborn, silent, pushing fellow.
But who is the old man?" he asked; for it was not often that strangers were seen at Bermuda Point, even in summer-time. "I dunno, daddy; but he says he knowed my mother when she was a little gal like me." Coomber dropped the tar-brush he was using, and a spasm of pain crossed his face. Had somebody come to claim the child after all?
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