"Fists are not the only things that fellows can fight with," said Parker.

[Fist] Devis's Grammar, spoken of in D. Blair's Preface, as being too "comprehensive and minute," is doubtless an other and much larger work.

Without the blue birds whistled, High up in the old roof trees; And to and fro at the window The red rose rocked her bees; And the wee pink fists of the baby Were never a moment still, Snatching at shine and shadow, That danced on the lattice sill!

Mrs. Love had never fought before; her fists were like lamb cutlets, and she had had a good mother with non-combatant principles.