Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 8, 2025
The fiery, gloomy curtain of flame that hung quaking overhead, and down away into the Southern sky, began to thin and contract; and, in it, as one sees the fast vibrations of a jarred harp-string, I saw once more the sun-stream quivering, giddily, North and South. Slowly, the likeness to a sheet of fire, disappeared, and I saw, plainly, the slowing beat of the sun-stream.
Slowing down and wheeling overhead, he saw that the aeroplane was the object of wondering interest on the crowded deck. "Ahoy, there! Who are you?" he shouted through his megaphone. "Gunboat Frobisher, Captain Warren," came the reply. "Who are you?" "Aeroplane without a name, Lieutenant Smith of H.M.S. Imperturbable, bound for Ysabel Island to relieve Lieutenant Underhill." "The dickens!
"What! would ye have fiddlin' at a funeral?" asked the Chamberlain, still without turning or slowing his step; and then, as though he had been inspired, he drew out the flageolet that was ever his bosom friend, and the astounded Frenchman heard the strains of a bagpipe march. It was so incongruous in the circumstances that he must laugh.
"You will if the train stops and I think it will." The three boys pushed off across the fields to where the railroad tracks were located. Here was the very spot where Dave had been picked up years before. Not far off was a water tank, where the locomotives usually stopped for their supply. A long freight train was just slowing down. Many of the cars were empty and the doors stood wide open.
Jack was now slowing down speed, making ready to lie to, a hundred yards or less from the floating torpedo. "Mr. Farnum, Hal's always at his post," said Jack, "but call down to him to be sure to stick particularly close for the next few minutes. If the wind shifts, and heads that torpedo our way, I want to be sure of instant speed for getting out of the way."
There was another argument with the chauffeur, a little more animated than the first; more greasy plugs taken out and wiped, and a sharper exchange of compliments with the crowd; more grinding, until the chauffeur's face was steeped in perspiration, and more pistol shots. They were off again, but lamely, spurting a little at times, and again slowing down to the pace of an ox-cart.
The car was really coming it rounded a curve just then, and came in, slowing up. Dolly saw Bessie get aboard, but Jake was looking at her. "No, I guess I can't," she said then. And she sprang aboard, just as the car moved off. The two girls fell into one another's arms on the car, laughing almost hysterically as it moved away.
She could not see what was going on, because she dared not look down. Hark, it is slowing up. Her balmoral has been seen and the train is saved. The tension over, she cautiously turned and crawled slowly back to land, and then dropped in a dead faint.
"Coketown!" droned the porter, making his way through the slowing car. Pescud gathered his hat and baggage with the leisurely promptness of an old traveller. "I married her a year ago," said John. "I told you I built a house in the East End. The belted I mean the colonel is there, too.
My sister wrote me." "One has excitement always in a great city, my dear." Bump, slowing down. It is light outside. One sees the world. There is a world still, the gouvernement francais has not taken it away, and the air must be beautifully cool. In the compartment it is hot. The gendarmes smell worst. I know how I smell. What polite women. "Enfin, nous voila."
Word Of The Day
Others Looking