I never could make out how the latter set of Clubs got their names; I don't know Greek for one, and I wonder how many other members of those institutions do?
Ever since the Club Snobs have been announced, I observe a sensation created on my entrance into any one of these places.

Members get up and hustle together; they nod, they scowl, as they glance towards the present Snob.
'Infernal impudent jackanapes! If he shows me up,' says Colonel Bludyer, 'I'll break every bone in his skin.' 'I told you what would come of admitting literary men into the Club,' says Ranville Ranville to his colleague, Spooney, of the Tape and Sealing-Wax Office.

'These people are very well in their proper places, and as a public man, I make a point of shaking hands with them, and that sort of thing; but to have one's privacy obtruded upon by such people is really too much.

Come along, Spooney,' and the pair of prigs retire superciliously.
As I came into the coffee-room at the 'No Surrender,' old Jawkins was holding out to a knot of men, who were yawning, as usual.

There he stood, waving the STANDARD, and swaggering before the fire.