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"Hah, you remember dat!" he said, "ah, yes, I make him when a yong man; but, mind you, he was not a pon he was a 'choke. I haf told you all about him before." "We've forgotten it," said Biddlecomb: "tell it us again."
"Good night, Master Bultitude," said a housemaid, meeting him on the staircase: "you know your bedroom. No. 6, with Master Coker, and Master Biddlecomb, and the others." Paul dragged himself up to the highest landing-stage, and, with a sick foreboding, opened the door on which the figure 6 was painted.
Biddlecomb and Tipping and some of the smaller boys were there already, their gloves and shiny shoes giving them a feeling of ceremony and constraint which they tried to carry off by an uncouth parody of politeness.
Bultitude; "but go on, let me hear all you have to say." "It isn't much," said Biddlecomb, quite broken down; "only don't sneak of me this time, Dick, let me off, there's a good fellow. I'll stick up for you after this, I will really. You used not to be a fellow for sneaking once. It's caddish to sneak!"
I've behaved like a cad, I know, but, and this is what I wanted to say, I was sorry for you all the time." "That's very comforting," said Paul drily; "thank you. I'm vastly obliged to you." "I was, though," said Biddlecomb. "I, I was led away by the other fellows I always liked you, you know, Bultitude." "You've a very odd way of showing your affection," remarked Mr.
And zere is further an appendeeks which in itself gontains a goncise view of all ze vort-blays possible in the Charman tong. But, come, let us gontinue vith our Tell!" "What are vort-blays?" persisted Biddlecomb insidiously, having no idea of continuing with his Tell just yet. "A vort-blay," exclaimed Herr Stohwasser; "it is English, nicht so?
"He looks as if his head was pretty solid," said Dick, who had once cut his knuckles against it. "My second boy, Biddlecomb. If he applies himself, he too will do me credit in the world." "How do, Biddlecomb?" said Dick. "I owe you ninepence I mean oh hang it, here's a shilling for you! Hallo, Chawner!" he went on, gradually overcoming his first nervousness, "how are you getting on, eh?
"Well, if you won't," said Tipping easily, "I suppose we must. Biddlecomb, kindly knock him down, and sit on his head while I fill his playbox for him." This was neatly and quickly done. Biddlecomb tripped Mr. Bultitude up, and sat firmly on him, while Tipping carefully replaced the good things in Dick's box, after which he locked it, and courteously returned the key.
"Don't be alarmed, my good friend," said Paul; "I won't poach on that excellent young man Chawner's preserves. What I am going to tell the Doctor has nothing to do with you." "On your honour?" said Biddlecomb eagerly. "Yes," said Paul testily, "on my honour. Now, perhaps, you'll let me alone. No, I won't shake hands, sir. I've had to accept your kicks, but I don't want your friendship."
It's a matter of life and death to me, but if you at all disapprove, of course that ought to be final!" "No, but," protested Biddlecomb, "I, I daresay I've not treated you very well lately, I " "You were kind enough to suggest several very uncommonly unpleasant ways of annoying me, sir," said Paul resentfully, "if you mean that.
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