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But at this moment the reading of the parchment was arrested by an exclamation from the assembly, and the broker was seen frantically struggling at the door in the strong arms of Mark-the-Pinker. "Let me go!" he cried, as he made a desperate attempt to reach the side of Master Flash-in-the Pan. "Let me go! I tell you, gentlemen, that document is not worth the parchment it is written on.
They were dressed like the previous comer, who, as they passed through the open door, exchanged greetings with each in antique phraseology, bestowing at the same time some familiar nickname. Flash-in-the-Pan, Spitter-of-Frogs, Malmsey Butt, Latheyard-Will, and Mark-the-Pinker, were the few sobriquets the broker remembered.
He had spent much of his time in determining the exact location of the treasure. He believed nay, he could state positively that its position was now settled. It was true he had done some trifling little business outside. Mark-the-Pinker next arose. Before proceeding to business he had a duty to perform in the sacred name of Friendship.
The health of Slit-the- Weazand was proposed in a neat speech by Mark-the-Pinker, and responded to by the former gentleman in a manner that drew tears to the eyes of all present. To the broker, in his concealment, this momentary diversion from the real business of the meeting occasioned much anxiety.
He had spent much of his time in determining the exact location of the treasure. He believed nay, he could state positively that its position was now settled. It was true he had done some trifling little business outside. Mark-the-Pinker next arose. Before proceeding to business he had a duty to perform in the sacred name of friendship.
They were dressed like the previous comer, who, as they passed through the open door, exchanged greetings with each in antique phraseology, bestowing at the same time some familiar nickname. Flash-in-the-Pan, Spitter-of-Frogs, Malmsey Butt, Latheyard Will, and Mark-the-Pinker, were the few sobriquets the broker remembered.
The health of Slit-the-Weazand was proposed in a neat speech by Mark-the-Pinker, and responded to by the former gentleman in a manner that drew tears to the eyes of all present. To the broker, in his concealment, this momentary diversion from the real business of the meeting occasioned much anxiety.
But at this moment the reading of the parchment was arrested by an exclamation from the assembly, and the broker was seen frantically struggling at the door in the strong arms of Mark-the-Pinker. "Let me go!" he cried, as he made a desperate attempt to reach the side of Master Flash-in-the-Pan. "Let me go! I tell you, gentlemen, that document is not worth the parchment it is written on.
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