Goodness knows, when my turn comes, I shall come a cropper." "Your turn will come soon, if Ponty leaves this term.

You're bound to have levee in your first week.

Hullo! what's up down there ?" This last question was caused by the slight excitement of Den levee, which, according to programme, was in the act of being celebrated at the bottom of the hall.
Culver, who was really rather sore under the arms, with his long confinement in his cousin's "swallow," was mounted on a lexicon, and word being passed that he was ready to receive company, the Den proceeded to file past him, in imitation of the ceremony which had just been concluded on the upper dais.
The imitation in this case, however, was not flattery.

Culver was not a dignified youth, and his sense of humour was not of that refined order which enables a man to distinguish between comedy and burlesque.

He had a general idea that he had to make himself pleasant, which he accordingly did in his own peculiar style.
"Ah, Gossy, old chap!" he said, as the secretary of the Den presented himself with his whiskered cheek nearest to his chief.