Out we rushed in some kind of order, I suppose, but I do not remember anything but the great blue back of the grenadier in front of me, and how he worked his shoulders as he ran. Then came the word "Halt!" and almost as quickly "Fire!" My piece went off with the others, and when the smoke cleared I had my senses again about me and could see the enemy about one hundred paces ahead of us checked by our fire. We kept at it until dark came on and the enemy retired, whereon we rejoined our own army and encamped for the night.
“Simon’s appearance on the field alarmed the trainer of the other horse, who had known him in South Carolina, and, suspecting that Omar was a bite, he paid forfeit.
It was rock, nothing else. There was a pile of small broken stones from the excavation of the cave. There were the few starveling plants. There was the cordage with which Jorgenson had been lowered. There was the parcel containing food and water. Ganti observed that the plastic went to pieces in a week or so, so it couldn't be used for anything. There was nothing to escape with. Nothing to make anything to escape with.
Sandra grinned and nodded. Doc's ability to interpret her mind was as comforting as the bubbly, mildly astringent mixture she was sipping.
“Georges? O, not much! Just like any other place.”
"Good!" said the little doctor, bringing his hand down with a ringing slap on the chaise-apron, "I like that! Dry--deuced dry. Like your poor father, that. 'In their way.' Ha, ha I understand. Their way is not much yours?"
The Martin Place, near Spring Hill, Tennessee, one of the finest farms in the State, formerly the Gibson Farm, and the first home of Tom Hal in Maury County; also historically associated with Hood’s raid.
As a result of Captain Young’s raid through Henderson County, Cave-in-Rock became somewhat crowded with outlaws. Realizing that their number was too great to maneuver with any secrecy and safety, many left the place voluntarily, some continuing down the river, others working their way inland, and a few remaining “to pursue their nefarious avocation.” 
"What about the pollution of the atmosphere by goats?" Georges put in. "And don't overlook the muddying of streams, the destruction of timber for camp fires and—"
There is about as much sense in judging a man by his talk as there would be in buying a dog by his bark.
Like the hand that plants o’er the tomb a flower
Leaving Amos standing by the battened hatch, pistol in hand, Jack rushed straight toward the man at the wheel. He covered him with his weapon, and, under the belief that the fellow knew English, for he had conversed with several of the crew before then, the boy called out sternly:
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