titmouse

He read that notice again, and looked at the disappearing Titmouse.

That was his hand between the Titmouse and the quay.

His first idea was to do the -same for the Titmouse.

What was the good of cooking in the Titmouse if he could not safely take her down the river?

Afloat in the Titmouse he had not been able to see beyond the banks.

Tom, in the Titmouse, was very much enjoying himself.

The Titmouse, drawing only her inch or two, was stuck fast.

He himself would have gone to help them if he had been able to get Titmouse off the mud.

Tom, still thinking of record passages, had called out from the Titmouse that the wind was just right and the tide running up.

Getting to know them involves more than being able to tell the difference between a chickadee and a titmouse.

Keeps that little Titmouse of his like a new pin.'

After the arrows failed to kill her, they caught and cut off the tongue of the titmouse.

He looked at the Titmouse in her neat awning.

Lucky it was that it wasn't the Titmouse he had taken.

He freed the rope from the thwart of the Titmouse and hung on.

The Titmouse bumped hard against one of the piers.

But all that water, though it looked still, was sweeping down to the sea, with the Titmouse upon it.

The Titmouse swung round, giving him, roughly, the direction of the tide.

He pulled his oars in and stood up, letting the Titmouse drift.

"Really, these shelves would shame a titmouse into moving."

"That woman's voice can peel paint and she's got the brains of a titmouse besides."

Tom lowered his sail, and tied up the Titmouse.

"Well, what will it be, my wet little titmouse?

But Tom, steadily rowing in the Titmouse, had no eyes for this.

He had only to take the Titmouse to the side of the channel, anchor her and wait till the fog rolled away.