1 The young men worked in shirt sleeves.
2 So you stole a march upon us, young people.
3 I call upon one of the young ladies for a song.
4 He contemplated the young people hanging roses from one rafter to another.
5 A young man in peg-top trousers and side whiskers carrying a spiked stick appeared by the lake.
6 The young, who can't make, but only break; shiver into splinters the old vision; smash to atoms what was whole.
7 Hirsute, handsome, virile, the young man in blue jacket and brass buttons, standing in a beam of dusty light, was her husband.
8 Children, young men, young women, some carrying hampers, others butterfly nets, others spy-glasses, others tin botanical cases arrive.
9 But the master was not dead; only dreaming; drowsily, seeing as in a glass, its lustre spotted, himself, a young man helmeted; and a cascade falling.
10 Coming out of the library it was painful, but pleasant, to run slap into Mrs. Manresa and an unknown young man with tow-coloured hair and a twisted face.
11 In all this sound of welcome, protestation, apology and again welcome, there was an element of silence, supplied by Isabella, observing the unknown young man.
12 Thick of waist, large of limb, and, save for her hair, fashionable in the tight modern way, she never looked like Sappho, or one of the beautiful young men whose photographs adorned the weekly papers.