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Updated: July 17, 2025
"Sense of humor?" raged the principal, getting up and pacing the floor. "Is it humorous to have a lot of young rascals running all over one's authority?" "Certainly not," responded Mr. Gadsby. "You should -er -preserve discipline." "How am I to preserve discipline, if I can't inflict punishments?" insisted Mr. Cantwell.
He was a man possessed of an abundance of words, and he turned his attention at once upon the first speaker. Gadsby had made no personal allusion to his opponent. He simply stated his case and ceased. But not so Farrington. From the first word he uttered he began to pour forth contempt and ridicule. He laughed at Gadsby's ideas of progress. "I think we're purty well advanced," he shouted.
Gadsby, one of the members who had won by only a slight margin over his opponent, stood with his back to a radiator, warming himself, when he saw the door open. Mr. Gadsby nodded most genially to Mr. Cantwell, who entered. The principal came straight over to this member, and they shook hands cordially. Mr.
The Dean had already posted his letter to his old friend General Gadsby at the War Office. So the die was cast. The Rubicon was crossed. The bridges were burnt. The irrevocable step was taken. Dr. Murdoch turned up the next morning with his prescription for physical training. And then Doggie trained assiduously, monotonously, wearily.
The expedition was to be under the command of Mr Gadsby, the second lieutenant, who would go in the launch; the first cutter was to be commanded by Mr O'Donnel, the boatswain, and the command of the second cutter was entrusted to me.
When Farrington entered the field as a candidate for the County Council, he knew he would have a hard struggle against his opponent, Philip Gadsby, who was a man much respected, and had occupied the position of councillor with considerable credit for two terms.
Often during the speech Gadsby was greeted with cheers and clapping, for those present realized the effectiveness of what he said, and he sat down amid great applause. It was then that Farrington rose to his feet and mounted the platform. He had listened to Gadsby's speech with amused tolerance, and occasionally whispered something to his wife sitting by his side.
It never occurred to me before. He knows that quotation. He isn't a Philistine with a moustache. I don't suppose he meant it, but he has driven the rings into my fingers. POOR DEAR MAMMA. Has Vermillion come round yet? Oh, yes! Captain Gadsby, don't you think that the saddle is too far forward? She told me that she doted on horses. Bad Buldoo! I must speak to him for this.
Gadsby was inspecting the diamonds in the ears of the lady by her side, who was resting her powdered and painted face on the back of the pew in front, as though in devotion. "Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted," read the minister. Dick thought of the widows and orphans in the city, and of the luxurious homes of the people he saw about him.
What did she say? I'm glad she doesn't belong to my set I must go and feed this man! Do I look presentable? MISS D. Yes, perfectly. Be quick and hand him over to your Mother, and then we can talk. I shall listen at the door to hear what you say to him. MISS T. 'Sure I don't care. I'm not afraid of Captain Gadsby.
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