These words are formed by the rusty iron point with which I write with difficulty in scrapings
of soot and charcoal from the chimney, mixed with blood, in the last month of the tenth year of my captivity.
Miss Anne rose assentingly, and the good brother took her away, while Joshua's preliminary scrapings
burst into the "White Cockade," from which he intended to pass to a variety of tunes, by a series of transitions which his good ear really taught him to execute with some skill.
So, when with scufflings and scrapings
and a hot air of importance, paddled up nothing less than the Sahiba's pet palanquin sent twenty miles, with that same grizzled old Oorya servant in charge, and when they reached the disorderly order of the long white rambling house behind Saharunpore, the lama took his own measures.
All these were blotted out by a grotesque and terrible nightmare brood - frowsy, shuffling creatures from the pavements of Whitechapel, gin-bloated hags of the stews, and all the vast hell's following of harpies, vile-mouthed and filthy, that under the guise of monstrous female form prey upon sailors, the scrapings
of the ports, the scum and slime of the human pit.
It was cheap, new wine, bitter and sour, made of the leavings and scrapings
of the vineyards and the vats, and it tasted far worse than beer.
The scum of the scrapings
of the bottom of the human pit, biologically speaking, resides in Taka-Tiki.
Just before school closed, Jo appeared, wearing a grim expression as she stalked up to the desk, and delivered a letter from her mother, then collected Amy's property, and departed, carefully scraping
the mud from her boots on the door mat, as if she shook that dust of the place off her feet.
When she heard the scraping
of a chair and the sound of a pen scratching upon paper, she again turned and went back along the hallway to her own room.
It was a grinding, scraping
sound, a rumble as though rocks were being rolled one against the other.
She could hear Madame Antoine's heavy, scraping
tread as she walked back and forth on the sanded floor.
I was watching to see where he kept his razor, when lo and behold, he takes the harpoon from the bed corner, slips out the long wooden stock, unsheathes the head, whets it a little on his boot, and striding up to the bit of mirror against the wall, begins a vigorous scraping
, or rather harpooning of his cheeks.
I should say that those New England rocks on the sea-coast, which Agassiz imagines to bear the marks of violent scraping
contact with vast floating icebergs --I should say, that those rocks must not a little resemble the Sperm Whale in this particular.