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Crash! came another object. It landed on a platter and bounded off into Bluff's lap. "A rock! Somebody is throwing rocks at us!" cried Will, starting to scramble to his feet in wild excitement. "It must be one of that Lasher crowd," ejaculated Jerry; "come on, boys, and let's get hold of the fellow!" The wildest excitement ensued.
"Ah! Genius! If you or I were geniuses, Pidgen, that would be another affair. But we're not; we're plain, common-place humdrum human beings with souls to be saved and work to do work to do!" There was a little pause after that, and Hugh, looking at Mr. Pidgen, saw the hurt look in his eyes deepen. "Come now, Lasher," he said at last.
There was that in his face that hit Tom's fancy, and made him anxious to know him better. There were probably not three men in the university who would have dared to shoot the lasher in the state it was then. It was settled, at Tom's earnest request, that he should pull the sound skiff up his old tub was leaking considerably while his companion sat in the stern and coached him.
"That sort of talk doesn't cut any figure with us, Lasher. If we go up to the head of the lake we'll try and mind our own business, and advise all others to do the same, if they know what's good for them. We're not out looking for trouble, but, if it comes along, you and your cronies will find that there are four fellows who know how to take care of themselves. Got that, Andy?" he said sternly.
Old Holywell Mill was on a branch of the Cherwell, and stood just behind Magdalen Walks, whence a charming view was had of its wheel and lasher. It belonged to the Abbey of Oseney, who gave it to Merton College in exchange for value. Now it is a handsome dwelling-house, below which the mill stream rushes.
It's a lucky thing that all of us know something about machinery. Our experience with our motor-cycles will come in good play now. And here's Jerry been studying up on the running of an automobile with that retired chauffeur, Garrison, who's teaching Andy Lasher how to run a car." "Yes, but, Frank, how about you taking lessons about the engine of a motor-boat?
In his sleep, at any rate, he was a hero; in the wide-awake world he was, in the opinion of almost every one, a fool. He was exactly the type of boy whom the Rev. William Lasher could least easily understand. Mr. He has not, at Cambridge, obtained a rowing blue, but "had it not been for a most unfortunate attack of scarlet fever " He was President of the Clinton St.
"There's one thing you can do, Master Jem, sir leastwise, which you can do as well as any man in the British army," he said, with pardonable pride, "and that is sit a 'orse." "Thanks to you, Lasher," Jem was kind enough to say with a flourish of his whip.
Trenchard would like better. How was Canon Lasher? Well? Good. They met sometimes at meetings at Polchester. Canon Lasher, Mr. Trenchard believed, liked it better at Polchester than at Clinton. Honestly, it would break Mr. Trenchard's heart if he had to leave the place. But there was no danger of that now. Would Mr. Seymour his wife would be delighted would he stay to luncheon?
That's the funny part of it. I've enjoyed it more than you ever will, Lasher. At least, I'm never lonely. I like my food, too, and one's head's always full of jolly ideas, if only they seemed jolly to other people." "Upon my word, Pidgen," said Mr. Lasher. At this moment Mrs. Lasher opened the door. "Well, well. Fancy! Sitting over the fire talking! Oh, you men! Tea! tea! Tea, Will!
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