The _Firefly_ had the best of the race up." (Here there were most indignant protests from the crew of the gallant _Sarah_; and the question was argued out with some energy on the floor of the shoe-room before Langrish could proceed.) "Nature was dressed in her most pristine colours, and the incandescent hues of the autumn leaves brought cries of enjoyment out of the mouths of the Ph.C.C, except the paupers, whose mouths were too full for utterance." This paragraph was not likely to pass unchallenged.

Coxhead impeached its grammar, Trimble its taste, and the paupers its accuracy, and a very heated argument ensued, at the end of which it was agreed to let the door stand open a few minutes to get rid of the dust.
"Arrived at Camp Hill, a flock of jibbering apes were discovered, headed by the president's arch-enemy.

Brown iii." "No, he's not my enemy," protested I.

"I never said so." "The minutes say so.

They're more likely to be right than you." "But I like Dicky Brown," said I.
"That sounds like poetry," said Warminster, "ho, ho! "I like Dicky Brown, His cheek is so cool, And if I don't kick him You call me a fool." "I can do that whether you kick him or not," said I, quite unmoved by this brilliant impromptu.
Here I was compelled to vacate the chair for a few moments, in order to discuss the matter further with Warminster.