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Martin's Church bells and what charmingly mellifluous and melodious bells they are! I do not profess to be a campanologist or a bell hunter, but I have a loving ear for a sweet-toned church bell, and can think of few belfries whose contents surpass St. Martin's, Birmingham. Although I have not heard the "Bells of Shandon" immortalised by Father Prout, I have, however, heard Great Tom of Lincoln.
They went and shouted in our ear," said Stalky. "My own private impression is that all three of you will infallibly be hanged," said the Reverend John. "Why, we didn't do anything," McTurk replied. "It was all Mr. Prout. Did you ever read a book about Japanese wrestlers? My uncle -he's in the Navy gave me a beauty once." "Don't try to change the subject, Turkey." "I'm not, sir.
King and Prout they 'ad their dressin'-down same as me. That's one comfort." "Now, we must pull up," said Stalky, rising from the bed on which he had thrown himself. "We're injured innocence as usual. We don't know what we've been sent up here for, do we?" "No explanation. Deprived of tea. Public disgrace before the house," said McTurk, whose eyes were running over. "It's dam' serious."
Then with a look of unutterable love from her fast-dimming eyes, she closed them in death. That was why Prout, after two years of madness in a prison, had stepped on board Hetherington's schooner and asked the captain to take him away somewhere he cared not where so that he could be away from the ken of civilised and cruel mankind and try and forget the dreadful past.
Radcliffes and Rousseaus, as well as its Wordsworths; but, on the whole, the feeling with which Robson drew mountains, and Prout architecture, with which Fielding draws moors, and Stanfield sea is altogether pure, true, and precious, as compared with that which suggested the landscape of the seventeenth century. Now observe, how simple the whole subject becomes.
"This place of yours will do me, Prout," he said, when his manager protested; "and your wife's only a delicate little thing. There's all kinds of fixings and comforts there that she'll appreciate, which you haven't got here. D n my thick skull, I might have done this before." "Thank you, Sherard," said Prout, with a genuine feeling of pleasure. "You are very good to us both.
That type of boy always does. They think it manly." "But they've no following in the school, and they are distinctly er brutal to their juniors," said Prout, who had from a distance seen Beetle return, with interest, his butterfly-net to a tearful fag. "Ah! They consider themselves superior to ordinary delights. Self-sufficient little animals!
I am too fat, alas! to be worried by bad boys. Where are you going?" "Nonsense! They would not dare -but I am going to think this out," said Prout. "It needs thought. In intention they cribbed, and I must think out my duty." "He's perfectly capable of putting the boys on their honor. It's I that am a fool." The Reverend John looked round remorsefully.
Worst of all, they began at times to wonder whether Stalky & Co. had not some truth in their often-repeated assertions that Prout was a gloomy ass. "As you know, I am not the kind of man who puts himself out for every little thing he hears. I believe in letting the house work out their own salvation with a light guiding hand on the reins, of course.
"This Sir Christopher Gardiner, the man who is sometimes called 'The Knight of the Golden Melice, is a great friend of thine, is he not?" asked Master Prout. "I account it an honor to call him my friend. A worthier or more honorable gentleman lives not in the colony." "There be different opinions on that head, my young master. The closer thy friendship, the worse, I fear, it will be for thee."
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