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Updated: June 24, 2025
'If he was a fellow like Philip, or James Ross, I could believe it; but he he make a book-worm! He hates it, like poison, at the bottom of his heart, I'll answer for it; and the worst of it is, the fellow putting forward such a fair reason one can't being his guardian, and all say what one thinks of it oneself. Eh, mamma? 'Not exactly, said Mrs. Edmonstone, smiling.
Please come in and help me out of a difficulty." He opened the study door, and Arthur followed him into the room with a foolish, secret sense of resentment. It seemed hard to see this dear study, the Padre's own private sanctum, invaded by a stranger. "I am a terrible book-worm," said the Director; "and my first act when I got here was to examine the library.
Thereon was spread strange literature for the scholarly taste of our local book-worm, a section from the most sensational of New York's Sunday newspapers. From the front page, surrounded by a barbarous conglomeration of headlines and uproarious type, there smiled happily forth a face of such appealing loveliness as no journalistic vulgarity could taint or profane.
Learning is, in too many cases, but a foil to common sense; a substitute for true knowledge. The book-worm wraps himself up in his web of verbal generalities, and sees only the glimmering shadows of things reflected from the minds of others. Nature puts him out. It is well, it is perfectly well. 'Leave me to my repose, is the motto of the sleeping and the dead.
In this room, perhaps, Christian Mentzelius was at work when he heard the book-worm flap its wings. Here sit the scholars at great desks with ingenious shelves and racks, and they write all day and copy excerpts from the older authors. If one of them hesitates and seems to chew upon his pencil, it is but indecision whether Hume or Buckle will weigh heavier on his page.
Then turning to his son, he added, "I had no idea we were such near neighbors! Did you hear what he told me? Mr. Raeburn lives in Guilford Terrace." "What, that miserable blind alley, do you mean at the other side of the square?" "Yes, and I am just going round there now, for our friend the 'book-worm' tells me he has heard it rumored that some unscrupulous person who is going to answer Mr.
While Jones was kissing and mumbling the book, as if he had an excellent brown buttered crust in his mouth or as if he had really been a book-worm, or an author who had nothing to eat but his own works, a piece of paper fell from its leaves to the ground, which Partridge took up, and delivered to Jones, who presently perceived it to be a bank-bill.
"Vere must be quite a book-worm!" "Will you stay to dinner, Emile?" "Alas, I have promised the Marchesino Isidoro to dine with him. Give me a cup of tea a la Russe, and one of Ruffo's cigarettes, and then I must bid you adieu. I'll take the boat to the Antico Giuseppone, and then get another there as far as the gardens." "One of Ruffo's cigarettes!" Hermione echoed, as they went up the steps.
"No, Bob, you must not speak to him at least not yet." "Why?" "Because he'll refuse, and you mustn't speak to him until you can make him consent." "I don't understand, Nancy." "You see, he has exactly the same feeling that I have about men. He would never consent to my being the wife of a book-worm." "Oh, I've thought that all out while I've been here," replied Bob confidently.
The truth is, he was still smarting under the severe reproaches of M. Daubigeon, and he thought he would enjoy his revenge now. He found the old book-worm, as usual, among his beloved books, and in worse humor than ever.
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