Them lights ahead are South Denboro." The lights were clustered at the foot of a long and rather steep hill.
Down the declivity bounced and rocked the buggy.

The horse's hoofs sounded hollow on the planks of a bridge.

The road narrowed and became a village street, bordered and arched by tall trees which groaned and threshed in the hurricane.

The rain, as it beat in over the boot, had, so the lawyer fancied, a salty taste.
The captain bent down.

"Say, Mister," he shouted, "where was it you wanted to stop?
Who is it you're lookin' for ?" "What ?" "I say--Heavens to Betsy! how that wind does screech!--I say where'bouts shall I land you.