United States or Saint Pierre and Miquelon ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
We know in our secret souls that our nicknames are our true names, and that our real names are mere tags and badges; but we prefer the meaningless tag to the too candid truth. There are obvious disadvantages in being constantly spoken of as Mr. Grump, Mrs. Crosspatch, or Miss Spitfire; whereas Mr. Smith, Mrs. Robinson, or Miss Jones are much safer and more non-committal.
They consisted of various items, such as: London Tailor. Oxbridge do. Oxbridge do. Bill for horses. Haberdasher, for shirts and gloves. Printseller. Jeweller. College Cook. Binding. Grump, for desserts. Hairdresser and Perfumery. Bootmaker. Hotel bill in London. Wine Merchant in London. Sundries.
The colonel found it so, and he relieved his strained eyes by an occasional amateur astronomical observation. On turning his head, with a yawn, from one of these, he saw inside the hut a state of affairs which caused him to feel hurriedly for his pistol. Grump had risen upon one elbow, and was stealthily feeling with his other hand under the Pet's head. "Ha!" thought the colonel; "right at last."
During the month which had elapsed since his advent, Grump had managed to build him a hut of the usual mining pattern, and the colonel and Tom stealthily examined its walls, front and rear, until they found crevices which would admit the muzzle of a revolver, should it be necessary.
The sound of the shot brought up all the boys from below. "They've fit!" gasped the doubter, catching his breath as he ran, "an' the boy boy's hed to lay him out." It seemed as if the doubter might be right, for the boys found Grump lying on the ground bleeding badly, and the Pet on his hands and knees. "How did it come 'bout?" asked the colonel of Pet.
In another moment both "grump" and "squeal" were repeated in full chorus by a drove of wild pigs that burst suddenly out of a thick bush, and, rushing in mad haste past the intruders on their domain, disappeared, yelling, into a neighbouring thicket.
Next is Balls, the King's Counsel, and Swettenham Hodge and Swettenham, you know. That's old Grump, the senior of the bar; they say he's dined here forty years. They often send 'em down their fish from the benchers to the senior table. Do you see those four fellows seated opposite us? Those are regular swells tip-top fellows, I can tell you Mr. Trail, the Bishop of Ealing's son, Honourable Fred.
The moments flew by, and still the two men remained in the same positions, the Pet apparently fast asleep, and Grump wide awake. The interior of a miner's hut, though displaying great originality of design, and ingenious artistic effects, becomes after a time rather a tiresome object of contemplation.
As for Grump himself, he improved so much that suspicion was half disarmed when one looked at him; nevertheless the colonel deemed it prudent to watch the Pet's landlord on the night preceding the express day. The colonel timed himself by counting the games of old sledge that were played.
Immediately he threw his luggage into the tonneau of the dingy automobile drawn up at the side of the lonely platform, and promptly climbed in after it. Spurred into purely mechanical action by this silent decisiveness, the driver, a grizzled graduate from a hay wagon, and a born grump, as promptly and as silently started his machine.
Word Of The Day