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After that the post loungers had the good sense to leave our young friends alone, though when they sauntered away most of them either thanked Cuthbert in a courteous French manner for his little treat, or else waved a hand to him, with a broad grin that stood for the same thing in the rough ways of their class.

Thus the letter "m," one of the four "liquid" consonants, is, as we now write it, only a shortened form of a waved line; and as a waved line it was originally written, and was the character by which a stream of running water was represented in writing; indeed it only owes its name to the fact that when the lips are pressed together, and "m" uttered by a continuous effort, a certain resemblance to the murmur of running water is produced.

He turned, screamed at Bill and waved his arms to warn them out of the track of the avalanche, if possible. Bill and his man saw this new danger and turned to climb back to safety. "Father was leading, Bill a short distance behind him, and the man not far in the rear, when the first two heard a scream. They turned and saw the horse had stumbled and fallen.

Suddenly One-Ear leaped back into the shadow, waved his hand to check the advance of those behind him, then pointed silently across the valley and toward the clump of trees. Not a hundred yards from the pitfall the high grass was swaying gently; some creature was passing along toward the pitfall and a thing of no slight size.

See here, now!" and he flung a gallant cart-wheel of himself in the same direction, and then stood on his head and waved his legs furiously in the air. "I feel just like that." Lydia, who had been tearful all the morning, looked at him in vague dismay. Only a short time ago she had never been made to feel that her brother was so much older than herself.

When they were lowering his flag into the tomb that flag which had truly so long and so gloriously waved in the battle and the breeze we seized on it and tearing it in pieces, vowed to keep it as long as we lived, in remembrance of our noble chief. Here is my bit see, I keep it safe in this case near my heart."

And though he was far from being piratical of soul, he was yet an old Norseman to behold. His hands were brawny as the paws of a bear; his voice hoarse as a storm roaring round the old peak of Mull; and his long yellow hair waved round his head like a sunset.

What a noise he made amongst the stones. . . . She saw his head rise up, then the shoulders. He was tall her own man! His long arms waved about, and it was his own voice sounding a little strange . . . because of the scissors. She scrambled out quickly, rushed to the edge of the causeway, and turned round.

He surveyed the two men sharply a moment, then approached, producing a sheaf of yellow paper as he did so. "Professor Darrow?" he wrote. Darrow nodded. The young man pointed to himself, then to the Despatch Building. "Cause?" he wrote, and waved his hand. Darrow shook his head. "Dangerous?" Darrow shook his head again.

And I will get a lantern and come down by Brenière and wave it to you." "Will you do that? It will be like a signal from heaven," he said eagerly, "a signal from heaven waved by an angel from heaven." "And to-morrow I will go to the Vicar, and the Sénéchal, and the Seigneur, if he has come home, and I will make them stop these wicked men from coming here again." "Can they?" "They shall. They must.