Do you really think that you've got anybody about you who can paint anything worth having " "Oh! oh! Hear the high-cockalorum! Oh! oh!" The sheep-painter raised his hand to command silence. "Do I think we've got anybody about here who can paint? you fog-headed noodle from Piccadilly?
Although the great sheep-painter had lost his sobriquet since the old days, he had never parted with his right to growl. "He'll be here," cried Simmons from his seat by the piano. His fingers were still rippling gently over the keys, although he had stopped once just long enough to strip off his wet overcoat. "I met him at Margaret Grant's this afternoon. She had a little tea."
Of this motley gathering "Ruffle-shirt" Tomlins, the swell; "Fog-horn" Cranch, the auctioneer; "Walrus" Waller, the sheep-painter; "My Lord" Cockburn, the Englishman; Fred Stone and Cornelius McFudd, not only occupied the bedrooms, but had seats at Miss Teetum's table, four flights below. Bianchi and the others were the guests of the evening.
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