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He now came forward from behind grandfather William, and his stooping figure formed a well- illuminated picture as he passed towards the fire-place. Being by trade a mason, he wore a long linen apron reaching almost to his toes, corduroy breeches and gaiters, which, together with his boots, graduated in tints of whitish-brown by constant friction against lime and stone.
They had replaced the food in their belts some time before, and now again they were ready to start. Suddenly the Very Young Man spied a huge, round, whitish-brown object lying beside a tree-trunk near by. He went over and stood beside it. Then he called his friends excitedly. It was irregularly spherical in shape and stood higher than his knees a great jagged ball.
An Italian, greatly agitated, was standing by it. He was hatless, and his tangled black hair hung over his swarthy face. At the other end of the yard was a whitish-brown bear, not very large, and chained to a post. I approached my bicycle, earnestly hoping that the bear had been attempting to ride it, but I found that he had been trying to do something very different.
Shields in a figurative more than a literal sense." He set down a small porcelain pot, and opened it. Within was a repulsive-looking, whitish-brown paste. "Ground-up termites," he explained. "If we're to go wandering around in a termitary, we've got to persuade the inmates that we're friends, not foes. So we'll smear ourselves all over with this termite-paste before ever we enter the mound."
They reached the cabin at daylight. The Boy saw the glow of the flame in the big fireplace through the woods and his heart beat high with new hope. Now that the doctor was here he felt sure her life could be saved. The Boy stood close by his side when he felt her pulse, and looked at the strange whitish-brown coating on her tongue. "You can do something, Doctor?" he asked anxiously.
The impressions of the Holy Mountains had already become memories, and I saw something new: the level plain, the whitish-brown distance, the way side copse, and beyond it a windmill which stood with out moving, and seemed bored at not being allowed to wave its sails because it was a holiday. The Story of a Journey
The lanseh, likewise but little known to botanists, is a small oval fruit, of a whitish-brown colour, which, being deprived of its thin outer coat, divides into five cloves, of which the kernels are covered with a fleshy pulp, subacid, and agreeable to the taste. The skin contains a clammy juice, extremely bitter, and, if not stripped with care, it is apt to communicate its quality to the pulp.
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