At the tick of eleven o'clock they gave that rope one mighty yank, all together, and the gun roared out the last shot of the war.

The clock on the mantel-piece, a little travelling timepiece, ticked in a hurried way as if anxious to get on.

An alarm-clock on a small shelf edged in scalloped white oilcloth ticked with spick-and-span precision into a kitchen so correspondingly spick and span that even its silence smelled scoured, rows of tins shining into it.

Tan ticks on the fore-legs and on the white muzzle are desirable.

Then your Aunt Hattie's hens are so obliging that they keep me from the worry of finding ticks at shearing time.

They just stick closer'n a tick to their hoss's side, and do a heap of mighty good shootin' from under his neck, I can tell you.

He had been dining at some very wet house the night before, and the wine had, perhaps, been more plentiful than choice; at any rate, there he was, with a tongue like a bath towel and a head that ticked like an eight-day clock.

From the fact that there is no ticking, we infer the same thing, for even when there is something wrong with the clock that will prevent it from going permanently, if the pendulum is set in motion by force from without it will tick for a few seconds before it comes to rest again.

" Mr. Campbell's clock-like brain ticked over the situation in detail.

But the knowledge that he is carrying out a perfectly definite order does not make the subaltern turn any the less pink the first time he ticks off a civilian for failing to comply with the regulations.

" They fell quiet, cheek to cheek, staring ahead into the gaslit quiet, the clock ticking into it.

" Captain Bligh waited in respectful silence, heedless of the fateful seconds ticking from the mantelpiece.

Accordingly, early one morning, after all domestic duties had been fulfilled, and the clock, loudly ticking through the empty rooms, told that all needful bustle had died down to silence, Mrs. Katy, Mary, and Miss Prissy Diamond, the dressmaker, might have been observed sitting in solemn senate around the camphor-wood trunk, before spoken of, and which exhaled vague foreign and Indian perfumes of silk and sandal-wood.

One Tommy who sat on his straw tick inside the tent was knitting.

The air without was keen and frosty, and the knotted twigs of the branches knocked against the roof and rattled and ticked against the upper window panes as the chill evening wind swept through them.