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Updated: May 24, 2025
If he could have articulated at all he would have sworn. Being unable to swear he groaned deeply and took his oar again. The punt wobbled forward very much as a fat duck walks. When he reached Delgipish he looked round again. A mile out beyond the stone perch he saw a boat moving slowly towards him.
Miss Dunne hid the Capel street library copy of The Woman in White far back in her drawer and rolled a sheet of gaudy notepaper into her typewriter. Too much mystery business in it. Is he in love with that one, Marion? Change it and get another by Mary Cecil Haye. The disk shot down the groove, wobbled a while, ceased and ogled them: six. Miss Dunne clicked on the keyboard: 16 June 1904.
I tell you, mother, I should hate to get caught in that trap. On top of his head was something that wobbled as he walked. He straightened himself up, raised his arms and screamed. Such a scream! It nearly frightened me to death. He isn't coming, is he, mother? Do let me run into the house."
Every eye was turned to the danger point, the wheel without the tire which, as the wagon wobbled, was unluckily exposed to the cabin fire. It could easily be seen where the deliberate marksman was getting in his work. He had knocked one felloe off the rim and was hitting at the spokes. It began to look like a race between the burning wagon and Henry at bay.
Yet its politics are lively, and the very land has malaria, as you might say; it has periodic shakes, earthquakes, "tremblors," they call them, or "trembloritos," according to size. It was early one morning, in the spring of the year '73, that Stevey Todd woke me up, and he says: "I'm feeling unsteady like. Seems like the Helen Mar wobbled."
A tall, imposing person stood under a Japanese print holding the palm of one hand outspread; his unwieldy trunk and thin legs wobbled in concert to his ingratiating voice. "War," he was saying, "is not necessary. War is not necessary. I hope I make myself clear. War is not necessary; it depends on nationality, but nationality is not necessary."
First through an outer apartment, dark as darkest night; on past the caterwauling cook and a few disreputable culinary hangers-on; asked to look out for a pony, which I could not see, but which I was told might kick me; then onward to my boy, who stood on a stool and dropped the grease of a huge red Chinese candle among his plaited hair, as he wobbled it above his head to light the way.
Ungainly it was, and clumsy it was, but it went upward at a rate a jet-fighter might have trouble matching. It wobbled, and it swung around and around, and it tipped crazily, the whole aggregation of jet motors and cage and burden of spaceship as a unit. But it rose! The ground dropped so swiftly that even the Shed seemed to shrivel like a pricked balloon.
"For goodness' sake go back to your kitchen, you absurd creature. I'll see to the matter. But the old woman wobbled to her feet almost weeping. "Now, don't 'ee, miss," she cried in her tearful anxiety, getting her form of address right the first time. "Don't 'ee be rash. Ther'll be blood spilt, ther' sure will.
I was so breathless after my run, and my arms were so shaky, that it was all I could do to keep the sight on the fierce-looking target and I thought to myself, as the rifle barrel wobbled about, "If I don't knock him over with the first shot, he will be out of these bushes and down on me like greased lightning and then I know what to expect."
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