"If you have a taste for chimneys, I hope your father won't interfere." "I haven't a taste for such a low business," said Fletcher, haughtily.

"I should like it as well as being a printer's devil though." "Would you?
At any rate, if you take it up, you'll be sure to be well _sooted_." Fletcher did not laugh at the joke.

He never could see any wit in jokes directed at himself.
"How long are you going to stay at that beastly school ?" he asked.
"I am not staying at any beastly school." "I mean the Academy." "Till I am ready for college.

Where are you studying ?" "I recite to a private tutor." "Well, we shall meet at 'Harvard' if we are lucky enough to get in." Fletcher rather hoped Oscar would invite him to call at his house, for he liked to visit a family of high social position; but he waited in vain.
"What a fool Oscar makes of himself about that country clod-hopper!" thought the stylish young man, as he walked away.

"The idea of associating with a printer's devil! I hope I know what is due to myself better.".