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"Suppose you have a difficult example to do at school, and finally after working at it a long time you have to confess you can't do it does that mean it's a mystery and you are mystified?" This was a poser for the boys. They had never looked at a subject of this kind on any such light. "Cub, you're the highbrow of our bunch," said Hal after some moments of puzzled silence.
"A procession is the very last thing a scout goes out in!" raps Wagstaffe. "A spy, sirr," replies the omniscient one. "Well, that's better; but there's a big difference between the two. What is it?" This is a poser. Several men know the difference, but feel quite incapable of explaining it. The question runs down the front rank. "A spy, sirr, gets mair money than a scout."
"Le's tar-and-feather him." "White feathers!" "Where'll we gettum?" "Satkins's kosher shop on the Av'noo." "Where's yer tar?" This was a poser; Satkins was saved from a raid. A more practical expedient now evolved from the collective brain. "Duck'm in the fountain!" "Drown him in the fountain!" amended an enthusiast. Whooping with delight, the mob turned toward the gate.
This was a poser to the demagogue, but he made an effort to get rid of it, by excepting the laws of God, which he allowed that even majorities were bound to respect. Thereupon, the governor replied that the laws of God were nothing but the great principles which ought to govern human conduct, and that his concession was an avowal that there was a power to which majorities should defer.
"On borrowed money?" asked Richling, evidently looking upon that question as a poser. "Yes." "Oh, no," said Richling, with a smile of superiority; but the other one smiled too, and shook his head. "Borrow mo', if you don't." Richling's heart flinched at the word. He had thought he was giving his true reason; but he was not.
Of course, my grandfather had three or four texts ready at hand; but my father had him by saying: 'You see, father, all the commands issued to the Jews are not strictly applicable to us for example, they were ordered not to use horses; and I do not remember that Cromwell felt that he was doing wrong, when he raised his ironsides. That was a poser, and so the matter dropped."
"But what does your uncle think about it?" This was a poser, and I could only answer lamely enough that, much as I was indebted to my uncle, I had known Jim first, and that I was surely old enough to choose my own friends.
"Isn't it queer, Pat, but now that I know him he doesn't seem interesting in the least. He's priggish and conceited; he's a poser, too. It is too bad, Pat, for you to tire yourself out and get such a a dry stick for your pains." Patricia regarded Joan for a full minute and then she remarked: "You had better go home and get to bed, child.
OUR NEXT DOOR. I tried a Sunday-school book once; but I made the good boy end in the poorhouse, and the bad boy go to Congress; and the publisher said it wouldn't do, the public wouldn't stand that sort of thing. Nobody but the good go to Congress. THE MISTRESS. Herbert, what do you think women are good for? OUR NEXT DOOR. That's a poser.
"Because I knew we weren't," she answered. In putting two questions at the same time, I blundered. The first was a poser and might have elicited some interesting revelation of feminine mental process. In forlorn hope I repeated it. "Why, I've told you, stupid," said Barbara. "You've no objection to their coming, have you?" "Good Lord, no. I'm delighted."
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