"Private paupers, like the Brethren of St.Hospital, rank as tenants of their living-rooms." "I shall never gombrehend the institutions of zis country," groaned Mr.Isidore.
"Never mind: make a Pageant of 'em," said his brother grimly.
"I'll forgive you this time, if you'll promise me to be more careful." "I'll do more, Julius.

I'll get aroundt ze old boy somehow: mek him bivot-man in a brocession, or something of the sort.

I got any amount of tagt, once I know where to use it." "Smart man, Our Member!" commented Mr.Colt, gazing after the pair.
"And Mr.Isidore doesn't let the grass grow under his feet, hey ?" "Has an eye for detail, too," answered Brother Copas, taking snuff.
"See him there, upbraiding his brother for want of tact towards a free and independent elector.

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