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He went completely under, came up spluttering, and found his footing.
There was no sound but the occasional spluttering of a candle.
The house was dark but for the weak spluttering of a candle in a top floor window.
Even the occasional spluttering of an overloaded control board had ceased.
I reach for the coffeepot when it ceases its spluttering.
Otto was speaking - spluttering would be more apt a description - with his mouth full.
One evening there came a sudden flash of fire and a spluttering, sizzling noise.
He came up spluttering and she broke the wax seal, pouring half the contents over his head.
I rolled over spluttering, and came to rest convulsed with breathless laughter.
Gradually the sounds behind them faded, first to a steady spluttering, then to a softer, muted roar.
"I heard the spluttering of a port-fire, and smelt the saltpetre of the match.
Kennet said: 'Cue, I think for angry spluttering.'
But their studied charm was rarely in evidence amid the usual spluttering, muttering, jeering and general raucousness of Britain's parliamentary deliberations.
At last it was over and Ben, spluttering good-naturedly, held up Honey's arm and gasped, "The winnah!"
This conflict of tears and laughter always reminds me of the flickering and spluttering of a brightly burning candle when one sprinkles it with water.
No coughing, no spluttering, no tears running down their cheeks: they were just slightly dazed, slightly woozy, slightly apathetic.
Splut: Another nickname for the British Rail Class 25, referring to their habit of spluttering when their engines cut out and failed, which they often did.
The marks on these works were said to be extraordinary: "The paint flung and squeezed on to the canvases, spilling and spluttering across their surfaces and smeared on with the artist's fingers."
As me ships turned away, Eiric noted that hardly a South- ern ship remained afloat For more than a mile the water burned and the spluttering of the flaming, sinking ships was blended with the screams of the maimed and drowning.
To sift the good from the bad in the daily onset taxes all our wits.no use battling against such a stream; all the shouting, the crying and the spluttering of all times have not arrested it, nor will they, for rubbish is necessary... thistledown blown hither and thither by the wind.
