File:Outing (1885) (14578349837).jpg

Identifier: outing48newy (find matches)
Title: Outing
Year: 1885 (1880s)
Authors:
Subjects: Leisure Sports Travel
Publisher: (New York : Outing Pub. Co.)
Contributing Library: Tisch Library
Digitizing Sponsor: Boston Library Consortium Member Libraries

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n a coster race has notfinished to his liking. He is not abovedoing his own neighbors, he will under-sell at a loss to knock some associate outof the running, he will generally take morethan he is given in the way of concessions—such as barrow room, for instance-—and hewould rather go hungry to bed night afternight than join forces with the local shop-keeper and agree to a fixed scale of pricesadvantageous to both. But he has threesolid virtues that lift him above the morallevel of many a man who never bets, orthrows brickbats, or avowedly bestsanother. First, he works like a Briton from theearliest hours until after nightfall, from thetime when he leaves school until the dayof his death. Consequently, although henever saves, he rarely becomes a pauper.Secondly, he will always give while he has.No outsider who is obviously down on hisluck ever asks him in vain. And, lastly,he sticks to his womankind. Nothing istoo good for his sweetheart or his wife,while he has a penny about him.
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THE PASS BY STEWART EDWARD WHITE PHOTOGRAPHS BY THE AUTHOR IX THE SIDE HILL CAMP The horses, too, hated to make a start.Dinkey, in especial, uttered the most heart-rending moans and groans as we cinchedher up. And as for Calamity Jane, herlong ears missed support entirely, and hungas the force of gravity directed. Tuxana and Pepper, however, were de-lighted. They had long since terrorizedall the chipmunks and Douglas squirrelsand ground bears of the immediate vicin-ity. When we whistled boots and sad-dles, as was our custom, all fell in lineobediently enough, but the two dogs fairlyfrisked. For several hours we wound leisurely upthe defiles of Deadmans Canon, ascendingthe bits of steep trails up the terraces,crossing the knee-deep meadows betweenthem, admiring the straight, lofty cliffs oneither hand, with their tiny fringe of pinetrees on top, inconceivably remote, theirjutting crags, like monstrous gargoylesoverlooking an abyss, and their smooth,sheer sweeps in syncline of glacier-p

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