One who hesitates is lost, goes the old saw, but so is one who plunges blindly ahead along a fixed path.
Oh, damn your strops, I always strop my razor upon an old jack-boot.
The river was quite wide and with a swift current, the shores low and gravelly, as was the bed of the river; but we all managed to get over without accident, except the writer, who, with his usual luck, managed to secure two good bootsful of water.
[…] your nails are well manicured—say, girls, it’s galluptious—don’t ever let it get by you.
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