"Greyhound" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... care of the huntsman, Saveliitch,[2] who from his steadiness and sobriety was considered worthy of becoming my attendant. Thanks to his care, at twelve years old I could read and write, and was considered a good judge of the points of a greyhound. At this time, to complete my education, my father hired a Frenchman, M. Beaupre, who was imported from Moscow at the same time as the annual provision of wine and Provence oil. His arrival displeased Saveliitch ...
— The Daughter of the Commandant • Aleksandr Sergeevich Pushkin
... between the greyhound and all other hounds and dogs is, that it can pick up its game while running at full speed, a feat that no other dog can do. The foxhound, or farm dog, will run over a fox or a rabbit many tunes without being able ...
— The Writings of John Burroughs • John Burroughs
... going together into the apartment, the admiral presented him with the bed already described, on which the rajah immediately lay down, and the admiral sat down beside him in the place appointed. They here conferred together for two hours, when they were interrupted by the barking of a greyhound belonging to the admiral, which wanted to attack one of ...
— A General History and Collection of Voyages and Travels, Vol. II • Robert Kerr
... Allen's daughter. I dined here with Will. Howe, and after dinner went out with him to buy a hat (calling in my way and saw my mother), which we did at the Plough in Fleet Street by my Lord's direction, but not as for him. Here we met with Mr. Pierce a little before, and he took us to the Greyhound Tavern, and gave us a pint of wine, and as the rest of the seamen do, talked very high again of my Lord. After we had done about the hat we went homewards, he to Mr. Crew's and I to Mrs. Jem, and sat with her a little. Then home, where I found Mr. Sheply, ...
— Diary of Samuel Pepys, Complete • Samuel Pepys
... time passed by, his anxiety came back upon him in full measure. Long days in the saddle were followed by sleepless nights; the shadow never came out of Weldon's eyes, the alertness never came back into his step. Lean, gaunt as a greyhound, he went about his work with a silent, dogged endurance which took no note of the other life about him. For Trooper Weldon, his profession had dropped to a dull, plodding routine of danger lapping close upon the heels of ...
— On the Firing Line • Anna Chapin Ray and Hamilton Brock Fuller
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