"There's a new chap in Sharpe's house this term, one of the biggest mules you ever saw--his name's Sarah." "What," replied his friend--"is he an ugly little cad with a turn-up nose, and yellow kid gloves, that gets lines every day from the doctor, and can't kick a football as high as his own head?
Rather! I know him." It was impossible to go on much longer at this rate.

The atmosphere was getting warm all round, and the storm evidently might break at any moment.
Fortunately for them, the Urbans, of their own accord, averted the peril.
"If you've done lunch," said Quin, "we'd better get to business.

Our fellows go in for something besides tuck, don't they, Flitwick ?" "Rather," said Flitwick; "we haven't got a Latin motto that won't parse, but we meet to improve our minds, not stuff our bodies.

I vote Mr Quin takes the chair." "All serene," said Quin, perching himself on a hamper.

"I now call upon Mr Brown iii.