28. The air was biting and smelled of frost.—Stevenson.
29. The wind, roaring round its broad verandas, hissing through every crevice with the sound and force of steam, appeared to waste its rage.—Hearn.
30. Away then they dashed, through thick and thin, stones flying and sparks flashing at every bound.—Irving.
31. Lying down on the grass, I spoke in my soul to the earth, the sun, the air, and the distant sea far beyond sight.—Jefferies.
32. Daffodils perished like criminals in their condemned caps without their petals ever seeing daylight.—Holmes.
33. They advanced singing and shouting their war cries, briskly charging the enemy, as rapidly retreating and making use of ambuscades, sudden surprises, and the light skirmish of guerilla warfare.—Prescott.
34. Lost wealth may be replaced by industry, lost knowledge by study, lost health by temperance or medicine; but lost time is gone forever.
35. But today being Saturday rather complicates matters.—Conan Doyle.
CHAPTER XXII
THE GERUND