This he brought down-stairs with him.

He began to hope that he might get the boat after all.
The squire, in dressing-gown and slippers, sat in a comfortable armchair, while John in a consequential manner read his rejected essay.

It was superficial and commonplace, and abundantly marked with pretension, but to the squire's warped judgment it seemed to have remarkable merit.
"It does you great credit, John," said he emphatically.

"I don't know what sort of an essay young Frost wrote, but I venture to say it was not as good.

If he's anything like his father, he is an impertinent jackanapes." John pricked up his ears, and listened attentively.
"He grossly insulted me at the town meeting to-day, and I sha'n't soon forget it.