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To her he was like the artist who smears himself and his smock with paint while in his studio, but appears at dinner in spotless linen without even a whiff of benzine about him to suggest his occupation.
Seaforth stared at the rent-down undergrowth, and had no great difficulty in reconstructing the scene. Smashed fern and scattered leaves as well as the red smears on the snow bore plain testimony to the fierceness of that struggle, and he pictured his comrade grappling with his adversary while his strength flowed from him with that horrible red trickle.
Neither he nor his friend said anything more on the way back; each appearing to find sufficient occupation in his own thoughts. The tea, or the supper, or whatever else they called the evening meal, was over when they reached the Major's; but the cloth, ornamented with a few additional smears and stains, was still upon the table.
He had an indulgent mother too, and plenty of halfpence, as the numerous smears of some sticky substance about the pockets, and just below the chin, which even the salesman’s skill could not succeed in disguising, sufficiently betokened.
The remark was addressed to a young man who roused himself from a brown study and looked up. Then he looked down to see whence the voice proceeded. Directly in his pathway stood a wee boy, a veritable cherub in modern raiment, whose rosy lips smiled up at him blandly, quite regardless of the sugary smears that surrounded them.
One end is planted in the ground in the centre of the path and the other, slanting up toward the snare, is used as a guide toward the loop, since a bear walking forward would straddle the pole. In a further effort to getting the animal's head in the right place, the hunter smears the upper end of the pole with syrup. Another wooden trap is that of the stump and wedge.
Let us, in a spirit of love, inquire." At this threatening stage of the discourse, Jo, who seems to have been gradually going out of his mind, smears his right arm over his face and gives a terrible yawn. Mrs. Snagsby indignantly expresses her belief that he is a limb of the arch-fiend. "My friends," says Mr.
Some in new scarfs and feathers, worthy of the "show-troop," others with torn laces, broken helmets, and guilty red smears on their buff doublets; some eager for their first skirmish, others weak and silent, still bandaged from the last one; discharging now a rattle of contemptuous shot at some closed Puritan house, grim and stern as its master, firing anon as noisy a salute, as they pass some mansion where a high-born beauty dwells, on they ride.
At the edge of the central stain were smears and, among them, half the impress of a big, nail-studded boot. "Have the workmen been in here this morning?" asked Brendon, and Inspector Halfyard answered that they had not. "Two constables were here last night after one o'clock the men I sent from Princetown when Mrs. Pendean gave the alarm," he said.
That day, although he swept the hills assiduously with his glasses, he saw nothing. The dark smears and timber, startlingly black against the snow, remained silent, brooding and inviolate, as though the presence of man had never stirred their depths. He did not remain long. Fearing that he would be needed at the cabin, he returned before noon.
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