An noon of a blazing hot day Jean was seated in the shade on the dwarf-wall that bounded the school count towards the headmaster's garden, He was playing languidly at shovel-board with a schoolfellow, a lad as pretty as a girl with his curls and his jacket of white duck.

The large, broad, shovel-stirrups enable the rider to stand upright as on terra firma, whilst the sharp iron edges of the stirrups goring the ribs of the poor animal, serve as spurs.

He is dressed in black with bands and a huge shovel hat.

Then he went down the canyon, following the line of shovel-holes he had made in filling the pans.

But the 'snow-shovel parade' was an imperative necessity.

They dug us down and earthed us in, their hasty shovels plying, Us the poor dead of Oudenarde, Ramillies, Waterloo; We heard their drum-taps fading and their trumpet fanfares dying As they marched away and left us, in the dark and silence lying, Home-bound for happy England and the green fields that we knew.

As long as lust of wealth obtains And gold will buy all things, And bank accounts but mark the line 'Twixt shovel stiffs and kings; As long as fancy rides free reined And distant fields seem fair, They'll seek the ship and make the trip To the land of Do and Dare.

Beats shoveling snow.

He began to figure with his finger on the muddy shovel blade.

People were brushing snow from their cars and shoveling walks.

Mr. Sadler, still holding the fire-shovel sceptre-fashion and still with the paper cap on his head, opened his mouth to reply.