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Category： Author：Ralph Henry Barbour
There was a hoarse blast from the whistle and the steamer sidled in toward the wharf. Rodney Merrill, his brand new suitcase tightly clutched in his left hand and his ticket firmly held in his right, followed the dozen or so passengers who were crowding toward where three deck hands waited to push over the gangplank.
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Category： Author：Arthur D. Howden Smith
The messenger was peering at the card above the push-button beside the apartment entrance as I came up the stairs."Chesby?" he said laconically, extending a pink envelope."He lives here," I answered. "I'll sign for it."
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Category： Author：Colonel Prentiss Ingraham
One summer morning, in the sixties, when the Indians in the West and Southwest were still giving much trouble to Uncle Sam’s settlers and soldiers, and when the great railway lines were being pushed forward across the continent to the Pacific coast, a scout rode across country in Kansas from Fort Larned to another military post, about...
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Category： Author：Mrs. G. de Horne Vaizey
Miles stood by the schoolroom window, hands jingling in pockets, as he surveyed a prospect, sufficiently grey and drear to make any diversity doubly welcome, and at his words there came the sound of a general pushing-back of chairs, as the four other occupants of the room dashed forward to share in the view.
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Category： Author：Anne Pence Davis
For the first time in ever so long Mimi was rude! She shoved, pushed, crowded, stepped on other passengers’ toes, jabbed them with her elbows. She forgot that every other camper on the train was as eager to be at home as she.
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Category： Author：novel
Sue made a great effort to push her way to the front of the crowd. The street preacher was talking, and she did not wish to lose a word. She was a small, badly made girl, with a freckled face and hair inclined to red, but her eyes were wonderfully blue and intelligent. She pushed and pressed forward into the thick of the crowd. S...
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Category： Author：Lyman Frank Baum 弗兰克·鲍姆
The wind blew hard and joggled the water of the ocean, sending ripples across its surface. Then the wind pushed the edges of the ripples until they became waves, and shoved the waves around until they became billows. The billows rolled dreadfully high: higher even than the tops of houses. Some of them, indeed, rolled as high as t...
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Category： Author：novel
I pushed my writing aside and tilted the lamp-shade, as footsteps sounded on the landing. The next moment I had jumped to my feet, for a tall, lean man, with his square-cut, clean-shaven face sun-baked to the hue of coffee, entered and extended both hands, with a cry
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Category： Author：novel
My only excuse for offering these very brief pictures of the City of New York as it was between 1900 and 1914 or ’15, or thereabout, is that they are of the very substance of the city I knew in my early adventurings in it. Also, and more particularly, they represent in part, at least, certain phases which at that time most arrested an...
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Category： Author：novel
Attendants pushing an ambulance cot wheeled what was left of murdered Fannie Bork into the center of the courtroom. The body was covered with a white sheet, except for the long, slim feet which were sticking out. Her toenails were painted red.
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