"Thrum" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... the flesh, it was more than I could bear, and, throwing down the drumstick, I give way to the most violent grief. It was not until I was severely admonished to continue my task, that I could sufficiently control my emotion and resume the horrid thrum thrum of the ...
— Seven and Nine years Among the Camanches and Apaches - An Autobiography • Edwin Eastman
... thrum on the lower strings. Farrell swung about suddenly, set the glasses down, and walked back into ...
— Foe-Farrell • Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch
... with the silent grace of swans on still water, came four girls closely veiled, carrying quaintly-shaped harps and lutes. A Nubian servant followed them, and spread a gold-embroidered carpet upon the ground, whereon they all sat down and began to thrum the strings of their instruments in a muffled, dreamy manner, playing a music which had nothing of melody in it, and which yet vaguely suggested a passionate tune. This thrumming went on for some time when all at once from a side entrance in ...
— Ziska - The Problem of a Wicked Soul • Marie Corelli
... both appointed, as also Council to plead, the Judge got up in a Tree, and had a dirty Taurpaulin hung over his shoulder; this was done by Way of Robe, with a Thrum Cap on his Head, and a large Pair of Spectacles upon his Nose. Thus equipp'd, he settled himself in his Place; and abundance of Officers attending him below, with Crows, Handspikes, etc., instead of Wands, Tipstaves, and such like.... The ...
— The Pirates' Who's Who - Giving Particulars Of The Lives and Deaths Of The Pirates And Buccaneers • Philip Gosse
... say that: I have hold of his mind. And I can slack it off or fetch it taut. And make him dance a score of miles away An answer to the least twangling thrum I play on it. He thought he lurkt at last Safely; and all the while, what has he been? An eel on the end of a night line; and it's time I haul'd him in. You'll see, to-night ...
— Georgian Poetry 1918-19 • Various
... the narrow hallway connecting the four rooms on which the social regeneration of her village depended, she caught the sweet low thrum of a guitar and a too familiarly seductive voice burst forth into a chant, whose literal significance she was unable to grasp, owing to lack of familiarity with the language in which it was couched, but whose general tenor ...
— A Philanthropist • Josephine Daskam
... who madly sips His nectar-draughts from folly's flowers, Bright eyes, fair cheeks, and ruby lips, Till music melts to honey showers; Lure him to thrum thy empty lays, While flattery listens to the chimes, Till words themselves grow sick with praise And ...
— Life and Remains of John Clare - "The Northamptonshire Peasant Poet" • J. L. Cherry |
