[Pg 360] But Arthur Withers, still feeling a certain sense of duty towards that helpless figure battening himself against the sheet, ran up to him. He decided that it would be useless to try and explain matters. The Clockwork man was obviously quite irresponsible. Arthur laid his hands on his shoulders and turned him round, much in the way that a child turns a mechanical toy after it has come to rest. Thus released, the running figure proceeded back towards the wicket, followed close at heels by Arthur, who hoped, by means of a push here and a shove there, to guide him back to the pavilion and so out of harm's way. Bruce thought that she would probably never have the chance, but he did not say so. Second.—The manner of moulding and its expense, so far as determined by the patterns, which may be parted so as to be 'rammed up' on fallow boards or a level floor, or the patterns may be solid, and have to be bedded, as it is termed; pieces on the top may be made loose, or fastened on so as to 'cope off;' patterns may be well finished so as to draw clean, or rough so that a mould may require a great deal of time to dress up after a pattern is removed. VII. I've met a number this summer. There was more than Larry had ever dreamed there would be to keep in mind: there was the maintaining of level flight; even in his simplest personal contact with the controls; then there was the job of keeping the horizon line at the right location by watching past a chosen spot on the engine cowling, else they would start to climb or go into a glide. There was the real horizon to distinguish from the false horizon, which an airman knows is, through some trick of the air, the visible horizon that is just a little bit above the true horizon, so that to hold level flight in a forward direction, that false horizon is not held on a line with the top of the engine cowling, but, to hold a line with the true horizon the marking point is held just a trifle below that false, visible horizon line. “I don’t know—” Larry took up the argument. “It is not usual for a cable to jam. It might break, but one shouldn’t get caught.” ("There," mused Shorty, complacently; "that'll amuse her. Girls like a little fun throwed into letters, when it's entirely respectful.) "Bread ... cheese...." "They're no good, them Boers," he announced at the Cocks; "there they've bin fur years and years, and[Pg 409] they say as how that Transvaal's lik a desert. They've got mizzling liddle farms such as I wudn't give sixpence for—and all that gurt veldt's lik the palm of my hand, naun growing. They d?an't deserve to have a country." The son sprang to his feet, and helped his mother, whose stoutness and stiffness made it a difficult matter, to rise too. HoME正在播放 COS福利
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