Frank Forester and His Friends; Or, Woodland Adventures in the Middle States of North America, Svazek 1Richard Bentley, 1849 |
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Frank Forester and His Friends; Or, Woodland Adventures in the Middle States ... Frank Forester Henry William Herbert Náhled není k dispozici. - 2019 |
Frank Forester and His Friends; Or, Woodland Adventures in the Middle States ... Frank Forester Henry William Herbert Náhled není k dispozici. - 2019 |
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alder Archer Ay'se bagged barrel beat bevy Bill Speer birds brace breakfast cheroots Cheshire cheese clean cock Commodore covert cried Harry crossed dead deep deer dogs Draw's drink etarnal exclaimed feet fence Ferintosh fire five flushed Forester Frank Frank Forester fustian Garry gray Greenwood Lake half hand hark Harry Archer Harry's head heard hill Holloa horses hounds huge hunt instant jumped killed laugh least loaded look sharp mark McTavish meadow Measter miles minutes morning mountain never night partridge quail rattled ready replied ridge rifle road round ruffed grouse scarcely scent setters shooting shot shouted side spaniels sport sportsman stood stream stubble sumach swamp tall Teachmans tell thick thing Timothy to-morrow Tom Draw Tom's tree vols wagon Westley Richards wood woodcock woodland yards yellow bass
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Strana 208 - He acts upon the principle that if a thing is worth doing at all it is worth doing well : — and the thing that he " does" especially well is the public.
Strana 57 - I'll flush them; never mind me, boys, I'll reserve my fire." And, as he spoke, he moved a yard or two in front of us, and under his very feet, positively startling me by their noisy flutter, up sprang the gallant bevy: fifteen or sixteen well grown birds, crowding and jostling one against the other. Tom Draw's gun, as I well believe, was at his shoulder when they rose; at least his first shot was discharged before they had flown half a rood, and of course harmlessly; the charge must have been driven...
Strana 41 - Tom— have done with that," cried Harry; "you'll have the dogs so full that they can't run." "Why, how'd you like to hunt all day without your breakfast— hey?" "Here, lads! here, lads! wh-e-ew!" and followed by his setters, with his gun under his arm, away went Harry; and catching up our pieces likewise, we followed, nothing loth, Tim bringing up the rear with the two spaniels fretting in their couples, and a huge black thorn cudgel, which he had brought, as he informed me, "all t
Strana 46 - Why, how's that, Frank?" cried Harry. "Couldn't you get a shot?" "Forgot to cock my gun!" I cried; but at the self-same moment the quick sharp yelping of the spaniels came on my ear. "Steady, Flash! steady, sir! Mark!
Strana 28 - ... with an expression of the most perfect excellence of heart and temper, and overshadowed by a vast mass of brown hair, sprinkled pretty well with gray! — Down he plumped from the counter with a thud that made the whole floor shake, and with a hand outstretched, that might have done for a Goliah, out he strode to meet us. "Why, hulloa ! hulloa ! Mr. Archer...
Strana 36 - I had heard lavished on it, had made any serious inroads on our understanding, but not before we had laid in a quantum to ensure a good night's rest. Bright and early was I on foot the next day, but before I had half dressed myself I was assured, by the clatter of the breakfast things, that Archer had again stolen a march upon me; and the next moment my bedroom door, driven open by the thick boot of that worthy, gave me a full view of his person — arrayed in a stout fustian jacket — with half...
Strana 20 - About six miles from the point where we had entered them we scaled the highest ridge of the hills, by a stratum of broken shaley limestone; and, passing at once from the forest into well cultivated fields, came on a new and lovelier prospect — a narrow deep vale scarce a mile in breadth — scooped, as it were, out of the mighty mountains which embosomed it on every side — in the highest state of culture, with rich orchards, and deep meadows, and brown stubbles, whereon the shocks of maize stood...
Strana 52 - Gentlemen, here's your health," and filling himself out a fair sized wine-glass-full of Ferintosh, into the silver cup of his dram-bottle, he tossed it off; and then poured out a similar libation for Tim Matlock. Tom and myself, nothing loth, obeyed the hint, and sipped our modicums of distilled waters out of our private flasks. "Now, then," cried Archer, "let us pick up these scattering birds.
Strana 44 - this is the ' Squire's swamp-hole!' Now for a dozen cock! hey, Tom? Here, couple up the setters, Tim; and let the spaniels loose. Now Flash! now Dan! down charge, you little villains!
Strana 37 - ... ashes. At the side-table, covered with guns, dog-whips, nipplewrenches, and the like, Tim, rigged like his master, in half boots and leggins, but with a short roundabout of velveteen, in place of the full-skirted jacket, was filling our shotpouches by aid of a capacious funnel, more used, as its odor betokened, to facilitate the passage of gin or Jamaica spirits than of so sober a material as cold lead. At the same moment entered mine host, togged for the field in a huge pair of cow-hide boots,...