He told them to "land easy, and don't bump my canoe."
I never saw such a chump."
In a very few minutes a clump of pine trees concealed the house from view, and we found ourselves on the outskirts of a densely grown plantation of conifers.
The lasses, skelpin barefit, thrang, In silks an' scarlets glitter; Wi' sweet-milk cheese in monie a whang, An' farls baked wi' butter, Fu' crump that day.
But the little Garin, approaching on his big dump-cart, does not know.
And yet, such is this queer world, the said lesser ladies of the famous mofussil station of Chota Pagalabad are, among themselves, agreed nemine contradicente that the Great Mrs. "Justice" Spywell is a vulgar old frump ("country-bred to say the least of it"), and call her The First Seven Sister.
"Because it was right in that copy of Treasure Island that's laying there," he shouted, "and I'm one big gump, that's what I am!
An' when I yell 'Dawn' at you o' mornin's, it'll be for you to hump yoreself an' git up to build the fires and rustle breakfast.
Jump off, Johnny!"
Hawthorne says of his novels: "They precisely suit my taste,--solid and substantial, and ... just as real as if some giant had hewn a great lump out of the earth and put it under a glass case, with all the inhabitants going about their daily business and not suspecting that they were being made a show of."
Sharon, the round, stout man, two years younger than Gideon, had the same blue eyes, but they looked from a face plump, florid, vivacious.
The few buildings left by the seventeenth-century fire seem to have included a highly picturesque group near the old Pump (now marked by an obelisk) and at the commencement of High East Street, where a dwelling-house went right across the highway.
Rump steak I ween," he added, sniffing, "food meet for the mighty Shamash (that pun was fortuitous, I need not say) or a ravenous medical jurist.
My very dear old bean, Think of the state of Prices, Think of the slump in Trade, Turn to the Paris Crisis, Ponder the cost of ices And buns and gingerade.
To be sure, the "loyal minority" knocked out the eye of one with a cabbage-stump on the 31st of March, 1711, in the town of Carrickfergus.
The sump holds 11,000 gallons.
When we have crawled past these death-traps and stand in safety once more, we throw down bits of stone, and seconds elapse before we hear the dull thump with which each signals its arrival in the depths.