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Mr Ashley replied that he was not in a position to inform the hon. member, but probably in about six weeks. Mr Wyndham, jun. Whereupon Mr Wibberly begged to ask the schoolhouse stroke whether he had any information to give the House on the subject. Mr Fairbairn. Mr Tipper.

Miss Bascom, Miss Thorndyke, and an exquisite young thing, Miss Groome " "Oh, those are the haute noblesse." Gora's tipper lip curled satirically. "No doubt they lay claim that their roots mingle with your own." "Well, we'd be proud of 'em." "That was the Hofer ball, wasn't it! Do you mean to say that Alexina Groome was there? Mrs.

"I suppose they ought to do them in one innings now?" "Ought to try," says Tipper. "Some of these kids play fairly well." "They get well coached, that's what it is. What with Bloomfield, and Fairbairn, and Mr Parrett, they've been drilled, and no mistake." "Let's see," says Wibberly, "there are five Parretts in the eleven, aren't there." Ashley laughs.

Among the truants had been no less than five monitors Game, Tipper, Ashley, Silk, and Tucker. "It would be a farce," said the doctor, severely, "after what has happened, to allow you to retain the posts of confidence you have held in the school. Your blame is all the greater in proportion as your influence was greater too. For the remainder of this term you cease to be monitors.

I dashed inside and brought a tin cup my only goblet hurried to the spring, and brought her the sparkling draught, saying, as I handed it to her: "You must excuse the din tipper, miss." She took it politely! and began to quaff, but from some reason she choked and choked, and finally shook so, that she spilled the water all over the front breadth of her gray-check silk.

I takes new bread, my dear, with just a little pat of fresh butter, and a mossel of cheese. In case there should be such a thing as a cowcumber in the 'ouse, will you be so kind as bring it, for I'm rather partial to 'em, and they does a world of good in a sick room. If they draws the Brighton Old Tipper here, I takes THAT ale at night, my love, it bein' considered wakeful by the doctors.

Its originality is beyond all question, which can very rarely be said of an old gravestone, and, as a churchyard record of a local institution, I have never seen it equalled or approached. Under the design is the following inscription: "To the Memory of Thomas Tipper, who departed this life May y'e 14th, 1785, Aged 54 Years.

More than one flock of large and small waterfowl flew past beneath the silvery cloudlets flecking the lofty azure vault of heaven; here and there a pelican or a pair of wild ducks plunged, with short calls which ceased abruptly, into the lush green thicket, but their cackling and quacking belonged to the voices of Nature, and, when heard, soon died away in the heights of the tipper air, or in the darkness of the underbrush that received the birds.

Usually he waited until the others were gone and the two men walked homeward together, discussing the sermon. To-day the others slowly scattered, and the parson sat alone at the tipper end of the room disappointed and troubled. John strode up to the door. "Are you ready?" he asked in a curt unnatural voice. "Ah!" The parson sprang up gladly. "I was hoping you'd come!"

"Yes," said Bloomfield, "I heard that." "Very well, they're much more likely to keep order for you than for that other fellow. We'll try it anyhow." "I know a lot of the schoolhouse monitors think just the same as we do," said Tipper, "but they're so precious jealous for their house. They'd sooner stick to Riddell than allow a Parrett's fellow to be cock of the school."