Let us the left foot forward stout advance.

I care not for the herd.' ''Tis love!' cried Franko.
'Ay, an' it be!' Jack gloomily returned.
'For ever cruel is the sweet Saldar ?' Raikes winced at this name.
'A truce to banter, Franko!' he said sternly: but the subject was opened, and the wound.
'Love!' he pursued, mildly groaning.

'Suppose you adored a fascinating woman, and she knew--positively knew--your manly weakness, and you saw her smiling upon everybody, and she told you to be happy, and egad, when you came to reflect, you found that after three months' suit you were nothing better than her errand-boy?
A thing to boast of, is it not, quotha ?' 'Love's yellow-fever, jealousy, methinks,' Franko commenced in reply; but Raikes spat at the emphasized word.
'Jealousy!--who's jealous of clergymen and that crew?
Not I, by Pluto! I carried five messages to one fellow with a coat-tail straight to his heels, last week.

She thought I should drive my curricle--I couldn't afford an omnibus! I had to run.

When I returned to her I was dirty.