"I did mean to send the music; I did, indeed." "I couldn't hear of it, Mrs Greenow." "But I mention it now, because I was thinking of getting Blowehard to come.

That other man, Flutey, wouldn't do at all out in the open air." "It shall be Blowehard," said Mr Cheesacre; and it was Blowehard.

Mrs Greenow liked to have her own way in these little things, though her heart did lie buried.
On the morning of the picnic Mr Cheesacre came down to Montpelier Parade with Captain Bellfield, whose linen on that occasion certainly gave no outward sign of any quarrel between him and his washerwoman.
He was got up wonderfully, and was prepared at all points for the day's work.

He had on a pseudo-sailor's jacket, very liberally ornamented with brass buttons, which displayed with great judgement the exquisite shapes of his pseudo-sailor's duck trousers.

Beneath them there was a pair of very shiny patent-leather shoes, well adapted for dancing on the sand, presuming him to be anxious of doing so, as Venus offered to do, without leaving any footmarks.