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Rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah! Erskine! Erskine! Erskine!" It was repeated over and over, and might, perhaps, have been sounding yet had not the Robinson players, sturdy, brown-clad youths, ambled onto the field. Then it was Robinson's turn to make a noise, and she made it; there's no doubt about that. "Rah-rah-rah! Robinson! Rah-rah-rah! Robinson! Rah-rah-rah! Robinson! Robinson!
The laugh was light and mocking, a tinkling, elvish sound which the Highlander frowned to hear. A book, worn and dog-eared, lay near her on the grass. He took it up and turned the leaves; then put it by, and glanced uneasily at the slender, brown-clad form seated upon the fairy mound. "That is strange reading," he said. Audrey looked at the book listlessly. "The schoolmaster gave it to me.
Denny Bolton, who had viewed from a distinctly unfavorable angle any possible enchantment which the town might chance to offer, settled upon the first as the entirely probable choice of the short, fat, brown-clad newspaper man, even without a moment's hesitation to weigh the merits of either.
He knew he was going to like Ogden like him for the same reason that he had liked the fat, brown-clad newspaper man in Boltonwood because of the charming equality of his attitude and the frankness in his eyes. "No," he decided, "I I'm afraid I can't. I didn't mean to stir him up so, either, only only I thought, just for a minute or two, that he was laughing at me.
'But to Stone-face's mind those brown-clad men were the Wights of the Wood that be of the Fathers' blood, and our very friends; and when some of us would yet have gone forward and foregathered with them, and followed the chase along with them, Stone-face gainsaid it, bidding us not to run into the arms of a second death, when we had but just escaped from the first.
The nest is doubtless close by, but it will be lost time to hunt for it in a wilderness of bushes like this, for it is a mere cup in the ground, hidden under the thickest shrubs that the brown-clad spouse of the towhee can find.
Are you willing to do a good turn for the welfare of us all?" "We're ready for anything, sir. We try to do a good turn daily, rain or shine," said Bruce, once more saluting. And his answer was echoed by the score or more of brown-clad youths ranged in line beside him. "Thank you, Scouts," said Mr. Worthington, crisply. "Now to business.
Justin will bear me out." Beyond her stood an undersized, brown-clad middle-aged man with a big head, a dark face and expressive brown eyes fixed now in unrestrained admiration on Mary's laughing face. This then was Justin, the incredibly rich and powerful, whose comprehensive operations could make and break a thousand fortunes in a day.
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