"But I'm not going.

I am too old for your young fellows--take the Major and leave me behind." The architect grabbed Peter by the arm.

"When did that mighty idea crack its way through that shell of yours, you tottering Methusaleh! Old! You're spryer than a frolicking lamb in March.

You are coming, too, Major.

Get into your coats and things!" "But Isaac is pressing my swallow-tail." "I don't mean your dress-coat, man--your OVERCOAT! Now I am sure you didn't read my letter?
Some of my young fellows haven't got such a thing--too poor." "But look at YOURS!" "Yes, I had to slip into mine out of respect to the occasion; my boys wouldn't like it if I didn't.