For several hundred yards the bellowing bull carried his two savage antagonists, until at last the blade found his heart, when with a final bellow
that was half-scream he plunged headlong to the earth.
Towards their conclusion, the suitor evinced a very irreverent degree of inattention, and Mrs Nickleby had scarcely finished speaking, when, to the great terror both of that lady and her daughter, he suddenly flung off his coat, and springing on the top of the wall, threw himself into an attitude which displayed his small-clothes and grey worsteds to the fullest advantage, and concluded by standing on one leg, and repeating his favourite bellow
with increased vehemence.
But after his first bellow
, Wolf Larsen made no noise.
But when the disease was more stubborn and violent, he let in the muzzle while the bellows
were full of wind, which he discharged into the body of the patient; then withdrew the instrument to replenish it, clapping his thumb strongly against the orifice of then fundament; and this being repeated three or four times, the adventitious wind would rush out, bringing the noxious along with it, (like water put into a pump), and the patient recovered.
By the time Paul and the trapper saw fit to terminate the fresh bursts of merriment, which the continued abstraction of their learned companion did not fail to excite, he commenced breathing again, as if the suspended action of his lungs had been renewed by the application of a pair of artificial bellows
, and was heard to make use of the ever afterwards proscribed term, on that solitary occasion, to which we have just alluded.
was on his way to make his bow to the bosom, and could only tell them in passing that he had heard it stated, with great appearance of truth, as being worth, from first to last, half-a-million of money.
He held a pair of bellows upon his knee, with which he had apparently been endeavouring to rouse it into more cheerful action; but he had fallen into deep thought; and with his arms folded on them, and his chin resting on his thumbs, fixed his eyes, abstractedly, on the rusty bars.
replied the Jew, looking round as he plied the bellows.
Dawkins, and giving Master Bates a reproving tap with the nozzle of the bellows.
has been equivocal and some what mysterious.
, our most intellectual writer, mainlined the European novel of ideas into the veins of American literature and infused it with a high-octane style.
In this biography the author tells us all we need to know about Bellow
and a great deal beside.
Of course, claiming for it fictional status was not done out of a concern for privacy; rather, this clever conceit permits Bellow
to make a philosophical statement.
Those difficulties are front and center in Saul Bellow
's Raveistein, which offers a loose, memoir-like account of the author's relationship with Bloom himself, the philosophy professor who rose to national prominence in 1987 with his curmudgeonly bestseller, The Closing of the American Mind (to which Bellow
wrote the foreword).
Thus Augie March, he argues, fails, because Bellow
"had not yet quite been liberated from the old attitudes toward America to which the novel was issuing a multifaceted challenge.