"Pointer" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... to their favourite gods, and made reckless, if silent, vows,—geese, pigs, tripods, even oxen,—if only the deity would strengthen their favourite's arm. For the first time attention was centred on the tall "time pointer," by the judges' stand, and how the short shadow cast by the staff told of the end of the morning. The last wagers were recorded on the tablets by nervous styluses. The readiest tongues ceased to chatter. Thousands of wistful eyes turned from the elegant form of the Athenian to the burly form of ...
— A Victor of Salamis • William Stearns Davis
... Captain Gary afore, did you?" Rucker regarded his junior with a peculiar smile. "I thought not. Well—I have. I'll give you a pointer. He'd rather send this ship to the bottom any time than stand any nonsense. That's him; and I'm sort o' built ...
— Ralph Granger's Fortunes • William Perry Brown
... divine grace alone. I often recall those days of summer sunshine to which I have alluded; and the scarcely less joyous winter season, when, ploughing the light snow, we raced with our inseparable companion, the favorite pointer, or built up a brittle giant for the glory of demolishing him with balls of his own substance, or directed the soft missiles against each other. Accompanied by our father, but never alone, we made excursions upon our frozen stream; and very sweet it was to the fond hearts of my ...
— Personal Recollections • Charlotte Elizabeth
... keep To guard our treasure while we sleep. A pointer, not a setter, yet He's of no use unless he's set. Gaze on his open, honest face,— There's no deception in his case. He is attached to us, 'tis plain, Though often ...
— A Phenomenal Fauna • Carolyn Wells
... and moving accessories are all in keeping with the cheerfulness and repose of the landscape. Hannah's cow grazing quietly beside the keeper's pony; a brace of fat pointer puppies holding amicable intercourse with a litter of young pigs; ducks, geese, cocks, hens, and chickens scattered over the turf; Hannah herself sallying forth from the cottage-door, with her milk-bucket in her hand, ...
— Our Village • Mary Russell Mitford
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