Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr.

Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr.

Summary

Portrait of Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr. Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr. Elsie Venner — Chapter XI (1891)

Venner came back for his beast, he was as wild as if he had just been lassoed, screaming, kicking, rolling over to get rid of his saddle, and when his rider was at last mounted, jumping about in a way to dislodge any common horseman. To all this Dick replied by sticking his long spurs deeper and deeper into his flanks, until the creature found he was mastered, and dashed off as if all the thistles of the Pampas were pricking him.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr. Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr. Elsie Venner — Chapter XI (1891)

When the savage passion of his young blood came over him, he would fetch out the mustang, screaming and kicking as these amiable beasts are wont to do, strap the Spanish saddle tight to his back, vault into it, and, after getting away from the village, strike the long spurs into his sides and whirl away in a wild gallop, until the black horse was flecked with white foam, and the cruel steel points were red with his blood.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr. Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr. Elsie Venner — Chapter XI (1891)

Old Sophy nodded her head ominously, as if she could say a great deal more; while, in grateful acknowledgment of her caution, Master Dick put his two little fingers in the angles of his mouth, and his forefingers on his lower eyelids, drawing upon these features until his expression reminded her of something she vaguely recollected in her infancy,--the face of a favorite deity executed in wood by an African artist for her grandfather, brought over by her mother, and burned when she became a Christian.
Source: Wikisource

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