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Updated: August 20, 2024
I knew one such beast that was sired of a wolf. He heard me with downcast eyes, at first with evident pleasure, but very soon quite gravely. "They can afford to fear dogs," he replied, "when they've got no other fear." And when I would have it that he had shown a stout heart he smiled ruefully.
A great man had sired it; a tried organizer had fostered it; proved executives had worked out the problems of its divisions and its groupings. At its head, suitably mounted upon a white steed, rode a grand marshal who was more than a grand marshal.
"You'll be used to it in a moment," she assured him. He learned, indeed, that if one pressed the stirrups as the shoulders of the horse swung down and leaned a trifle forward when the shoulders rose again, the motion ceased to be jarring; for she was truly a matchless creature and gaited like one of those fabulous horses of old, sired by the swift western wind.
It would always be a great pleasure for me to be watching Dan, the way he would be toiling against the heather, and draining in the moss in the seasons, and rearing his horses, for his great war-horse sired many foals, and maybe to this day you will see the traces of that breed in the little crofts where the horses and cattle beasts are as long bred as the names of the folk that own them.
The blamed thing was sired by a whole doggone Dutch syndicate." "Why, the piebald son of a gun!" responded the Virginian, sweetly. "I got them steers through all right," he added to me. "Sorry to see yu' get so out o' breath afteh the train. Is your valise sufferin' any?" "Who's he?" inquired Scipio, curiously, turning to me. The Southerner sat with a newspaper on the rear platform of a caboose.
"Hush, man! hush, man!" said Cæsar, looking about. "A good cow, very; but down twice since I left home this morning." "I'd give a bad sixpence to see Cæsar selling that cow," thought Pete. Three men were bargaining over a horse. "Rising five years, sir. Sired by Mahomet. Oh, I've got the papers to prove it," said one of the two. "What, man? Five?" shouted Black Tom down the horse's open mouth.
From this instant Adrienne Lecouvreur never loved another man and never even looked at any other man with the slightest interest. For nine long years the two were bound together, though there were strange events to ruffle the surface of their love. Maurice de Saxe had been sired by a king.
First, there is The Beadle, a splendid blue male with amber eyes, whose long pedigree appears in the third volume of the N.C.C.S.B. under the number 1872, sired by Glaucus, and his dam was Hawthorne Bounce. His pedigree is traced for many generations. He was bred by Mrs. Dean of Hawthornedene, Slough, England. The Beadle took first prize at the cat show held in Chicago in 1896.
Help him to saddle Pirate." "Saddle Pirate, Miss Annesley!" cried the boy, his mouth open and his eyes wide. "You see?" said the girl to Warburton. "Take down that saddle with the hooded stirrups," said Warburton, briefly. He would ride Pirate now, even if Pirate had been sired in Beelzebub's stables. He carefully inspected the saddle, the stirrup- straps and the girth. "Very good, indeed.
"Oh, please don't have anything to do with such a vicious creature," I begged. "You might be killed." Jim laughed. "The horse isn't sired that could kill me, I reckon. I know them too well. Why, little girl, I was brought up among horses. You can trust me not to run too big risks, now I've got something to make life worth living."
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