"Rutty" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... rid of her. He began to look quite old himself, as he stared and stared at the mascot of Battery B, the cannon lumping along, and the old lady bouncing up and down, as the wheels sank to the axles in the rutty road. ...
— Love, The Fiddler • Lloyd Osbourne
... whose advent created almost as much excitement as it would in Timbuctoo. It was not inaccessible, but the roads were not good for automobiles; they were mainly paved with rough "Belgian" blocks of stone, high in the center, with a dirt roadway on either side, used by the peasants and quite rutty. ...
— Vanished towers and chimes of Flanders • George Wharton Edwards
... moment. I had no companion, but depended upon my own gun, and the rutty nature of the ground precluded any quick movements. The watching of the game is the intense excitement of elephant-shooting—a feeling which only lasts until the animal is within shot, when it suddenly vanishes and gives place to perfect calmness. At this ...
— The Rifle and The Hound in Ceylon • Samuel White Baker
... thing never to be forgotten was that they that were in government then"—at the end of 1688—"seemed to favour us and endeavour to preserve Friends." history of the Rise and Progress of the People called Quakers in Ireland, by Wight and Rutty, Dublin, 1751. King indeed (iii. 17) reproaches the Quakers as allies ...
— The History of England from the Accession of James II. - Volume 3 (of 5) • Thomas Babington Macaulay
... the hot sun of August. I smelt the stench of blood, for I had been in the muck and misery of war before and had seen the death carts coming back from the battlefield and the convoys of wounded crawling down the rutty roads—from Adrianople—with men, who had been strong and fine, now shattered, twisted and made hideous by pain. The flowers carried by those cavalry officers seemed to me like funeral wreaths upon men who were doomed ...
— The Soul of the War • Philip Gibbs
... Henry de Beauvoir, active and athletic, was killed in South Africa by the most unlikely accident of being jolted off the front seat in a rutty road and crushed to death under the wheel of an ox-waggon creeping at two miles an hour! This sad event occurred on May 31, 1871: and the newspapers at the time, both British and South African, fully recorded not only the ...
— My Life as an Author • Martin Farquhar Tupper
... discontent of my long fruitlesse stay In princes court,{2} and expectation vayne Of idle hopes, which still doe fly away Like empty shadows, did afflict my brayne,) Walkt forth to ease my payne Along the shoare of silver streaming Themmes{3}; Whose rutty{4} bank, the which his river hemmes, Was paynted all with variable flowers, And all the meades adorned with dainty gemmes Fit to decke maydens bowres, And crown their paramours Against{5} the brydale-day, which is not long; ...
— Six Centuries of English Poetry - Tennyson to Chaucer • James Baldwin
... inquiry took me, one day last summer, deeply into the Plain, up and over a rutty track which my driver will have cause to remember. An uncommonly large hawk soaring over his prey, and so near the ground that I could see the light through his ragged plumes, a hare limping through the bents, further off a crawling flock bustling after shepherd and dog, ...
— In a Green Shade - A Country Commentary • Maurice Hewlett
... striding the ruts and skipping over stones like two boys on the way home from school. There was pleasanter walking in bridle-paths and wood-roads branching off from the thoroughfare every few rods. I think the madcap chose the rutty and mud-holey route because there was, at least, a chance that we might have to plunge into the bushes to hide, or to brave the scrutiny of strangers and acquaintances. The sauce of danger made the escapade the ...
— When Grandmamma Was New - The Story of a Virginia Childhood • Marion Harland
... he doing back here?" demanded Amy, while the rest stared at Grace excitedly. "That's only a rutty old wagon ...
— The Outdoor Girls at the Hostess House • Laura Lee Hope
... establishment. It was outside a lonely cottage exactly like his own home. There was the same brown thatch on the roof, a garland of verdant wild creepers drooping from a spot at the gable, the same two small windows without any sashes in the front wall, the same narrow rutty pathway from the road, the same sort of yellow hen cackling heatedly, her legs quivering as she clutched the drab half door, the same scent of decayed cabbage leaves in the air. Denis Donohoe took a sack of hay ...
— Waysiders • Seumas O'Kelly |
