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"By Jove," said the Duke, turning to tap the leaf of a rubber tree with his finger, "that fellow's a Nigerian, isn't he?" "I hardly know," said Mr. Fyshe, "I imagine so"; and he added, "You've been in Nigeria, Duke?" "Oh, some years ago," said the Duke, "after big game, you know fine place for it." "Did you get any?" asked Mr. Fyshe. "Not much," said the Duke; "a hippo or two." "Ah," said Mr.
"I certainly should not," said Mr. Furlong, and in this he spoke the truth. "Very good then," said Mr. Fyshe, "I shall use it for the Duke of Dulham this afternoon." He uttered the name of the Duke with that quiet, democratic carelessness which meant that he didn't care whether half a dozen other members lunching at the club could hear or not.
I speak with some assurance as I had occasion to enquire into the matter at the time when I was looking for guidance in regard to the call I had received to come here." "It's a quite simple matter," Mr. Skinyer presently reported to Mr. Fyshe. "One of the churches is a perpetual trust, the other practically a state corporation.
I am absolutely convinced, sir, that our modern civilization will end in a great social catastrophe. Mark what I say" and here Mr. Fyshe became exceedingly impressive "a great social catastrophe. Some of us may not live to see it, perhaps; but you, for instance, Furlong, are a younger man; you certainly will." But here Mr. Fyshe was understating the case.
"He will find much to interest him," went on the rector in a musing tone. "The position of the Anglican Church in America should afford him an object of much consideration. I understand," he added, feeling his way, "that his Grace is a man of deep piety." "Very deep," said Mr. Fyshe. "And of great philanthropy?" "Very great."
Lucullus Fyshe, who made soda-water, but at the same time everybody knew that he had the best collection of broken Italian furniture on the continent; there wasn't a sound piece among the lot. And there was the similar example of old Mr. Feathertop. He didn't exactly collect things; he repudiated the name. He was wont to say, "Don't call me a collector, I'm not. I simply pick things up.
Furlong, "at a more or less nominal sum four hundred thousand or whatever it might be. We felt that for such a purpose, almost sacred as it were, one would want as little bargaining as possible." "Oh, none at all," assented Mr. Fyshe. "Our feeling was," went on Mr.
"Well, no, I suppose not," said Mr. Fyshe, and he too smiled in fact he almost laughed. The notion was too ridiculous. One could hardly compare a mere church to a thing of the magnitude and importance of the Standard Oil Company. "But on a lesser scale," continued Mr. Fyshe, "it's the same sort of thing.
Lucullus Fyshe, sitting in the Mausoleum Club and breathing freely at last after having disposed of all his holdings in the Erie Auriferous, "is an ignoramus. I asked him only the other day, quite casually, a perfectly simple business question. I said to him. 'T.C. Bonds have risen twenty-two and a half in a week.
Buncomhearst. "All those in favour please signify." Nobody stirred. "Carried," said the president. "And perhaps you would be good enough, Mrs. Fyshe," she said, turning towards the stout lady, "to write the constitution." "Do you think it necessary to write it?" said Mrs. Fyshe.
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