"We'll start again." "Owing to the asinine mulishness of S--H, and three between--" "No--that won't do," said I, fiercely.
"Owing to the asinine mulishness of--" here the speaker pointed at me with his thumb--"of the asinine mule in the chair--" I was weak enough to let this pass, and the applause with which it was received quite carried the secretary off his feet.

When he got on them again he resumed,-- "Jarman's guy was mulled all through.

Even Trimble couldn't have made a bigger mess of it." Here Trimble mildly interposed, but Langrish, who had hooked one arm through a ring in the side of the vessel, and had a firm grip with his feet up against a rib in front of him, was inflexible.
"A bigger mess of it," he repeated, when at last he was free to proceed.
"It was stuck just under the grating of the gym., and was neatly blown up by Jarman at 8:15 on November 2.

The cost of the fireworks was four- and-six, which the asinine mule, as it was his fault, is going to hand over to the club, or know the reason why." I said I would know the reason why.

Whereupon a long Socratic argument ensued.
"Do you mean to say it wasn't your fault ?" demanded Langrish.
"I couldn't tell Jarman would drop his cigar down." "But if you'd tried you couldn't have stuck him in a better place." "That's what I thought.