My floating coffin was many things in turn; a railway carriage, a pleasure boat on the Thames, a hammock under the trees; last of all it was the upper berth in a not very sweet-smelling cabin, with a clatter
of knives and forks near at hand, and a very strong odor of onions in the Irish stew.
In battle he was always under fire, so that Kutuzov reproved him for it and feared to send him to the front, and like Dokhturov he was one of those unnoticed cogwheels that, without clatter
or noise, constitute the most essential part of the machine.
Then he remembered that it was no fun being angry unless he had some one to frighten and make miserable, and he rushed to his big gong and made it clatter as loud as he could.
Finally he rushed to his big gong and made it clatter like a fire alarm.
At last, I heard the guard's horn and the clatter
of the horses' hoofs.
It hurt, for it meant forty to fifty cents a clatter
of hoofs strangled but could not drown the sound of his profanity.
Jones--she's the president--told 'em I should have that if they had to clatter
down bare aisles themselves the rest of their days.
He seemed to hear yet so plainly the clatter and bangs of the iron slice flying about his ears that he tightened his grip to prove to himself he had it there safely in his hand.
Its door being hinged forward, he had to fight the gale for admittance, and when at last he managed to enter, it was with an instantaneous clatter and a bang, as though he had been fired through the wood.
The steering-gear leaped into an abrupt short clatter, stopped smouldering like an ember; and the still man, with a motionless gaze, burst out, as if all the passion in him had gone into his lips: "By Heavens, sir
Before he could escape from her, the clatter
of horses' hoofs told him that they were beyond his reach.
Mittens and Josephine clatter
and spin, pitching and pulsing with yearning, recapturing some of the rawness of I Knew Prufrock Before He Got Famous, while occasional Jools Holland-esque piano plinkings are just about forgivable because the rest is fire in the belly stuff.
Yes, the true blue Italian does have a rather strange clatter
at idle, thanks to the twin radiators on either side raising a cacophony accompanied by the bass of the 899cc three- cylinder motor.
I was in the shop on Tuesday afternoon, with the door closed, when I heard this big clatter