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Updated: June 18, 2025
But scarcely had his subordinates hurried to the end of the train, ere Joshua whispered to his companion: "At him!" As he spoke the Hebrew, who, with his yoke-mate, headed the procession, attacked the astonished leader, and ere he was aware of it, Joshua seized his right arm, the other his left.
But scarcely had his subordinates hurried to the end of the train, ere Joshua whispered to his companion: "At him!" As he spoke the Hebrew, who, with his yoke-mate, headed the procession, attacked the astonished leader, and ere he was aware of it, Joshua seized his right arm, the other his left.
It appeared, however, that Robert stood in no awe of his father's anger; he said lightly: "They never come back, dad. I'm a regular married man. Lorelei is my royal consort, my yoke-mate, my rib. We'll have to scratch the Charlevoix." This levity left the caller unmoved; to Lorelei he explained: "I want no notoriety, so all we need talk about is terms.
Could they send the girl away if they did not like her? Besides, wouldn't they have to marry her? and if Jerome found a yoke-mate among the heiresses of Provins they ought to keep all their property for his children. A yokemate for Jerome, according to Sylvie, meant a stupid, rich and ugly girl who would let herself be governed. They decided to refuse the Lorrain request.
I could not conjecture how a horse which had spent his youth as trick-horse in possession of an itinerant fakir, had acquired, since I knew him, reputation enough to be yoke-mate in a team highly enough thought of to be entered for two races the same day in the Circus Maximus. This was a puzzle almost as absorbing as the likeness and contrast between the Emperor and Palus.
I am going to shoot." Buddy crawled up a little higher on the blankets behind the seat, and saw mother steady herself and aim the rifle straight at Crumpy. There was the familiar, deafening roar, the acrid smell of black powder smoke, and Crumpy went down loosely, his nose rooting the trampled ground for a space before the gun belched black smoke again and Crumpy's yoke-mate pitched forward.
Britt dyed after Hittie died. That was when he was past sixty-five. It was only the familiar, oft-repeated instance of temperament being jounced out of a lifelong rut by a break in wedlock relations. Hittie was his yoke-mate, pulling hard at his side with wages of food and drink.
Clearly, she was the impulse, and he the corrective. As they went up the hill he kept glancing at her sidewise, to see whether she got his point, or how she received it. I noticed later that he always looked at people sidewise, as a work-horse does at its yoke-mate.
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