shot

The result was that he shot up straight into the air for four or five feet, landing almost where he left ground.

“There’s just one more thing, Marilla,” said Anne, with the air of producing the last shot in her locker.

Then giving a great spring, he shot through the air and landed safely on the other side.

There were rosy bleeding-hearts and great splendid crimson peonies; white, fragrant narcissi and thorny, sweet Scotch roses; pink and blue and white columbines and lilac-tinted Bouncing Bets; clumps of southernwood and ribbon grass and mint; purple Adam-and-Eve, daffodils, and masses of sweet clover white with its delicate, fragrant, feathery sprays; scarlet lightning that shot its fiery lances over prim white musk-flowers; a garden it was where sunshine lingered and bees hummed, and winds, beguiled into loitering, purred and rustled.