As soon as Reddy could free himself from the grasp of his school fellows, who would have borne him from the field in triumph if he had not stoutly resisted, he hurried to his friends, who showered him with congratulations.
"O you Titian-haired star!" cried Hippy, clasping his hands in mock admiration.

"You are the rarest jewel in the casket.

Words fail to express my feelings.
"'O joy, O bliss, O rapture! Let happiness now hap! I am a sea of gurgling glee, with ecstacy on tap.'" Hippy recited this effusion in a killing falsetto voice, and endeavored to embrace Reddy fervently, but was dragged back by Tom and David, to Reddy's visible relief.
"He's the idol of the hour.

Don't put your irreverent hands on him," was David's injunction.
"But I adore idols," persisted Hippy.

"Let me at him." "Quit it, fat one!" growled Reddy, with a grin.