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Updated: June 19, 2025
Ray! it was so weak, so pitifully weak! he dragged forth the old demijohn, filled and drank a bumper of rye, hurled the goblet into flinders against the door, and threw himself upon his bed in an ecstasy of pent-up wrath and misery, just as Blake came tearing in to tell of Dandy's escapade. Yes, it was wofully weak, but as wofully human.
The two companies of the light cavalry division had marched out that afternoon leaving their barracks empty, swept and wholly ungarnished for the troops which were to arrive to replace them. Stranryan will long remember that twenty-fourth of May. In the evening there was a wind off the Loch, a little irregular but pleasantly fanning to cheeks heated with the good-night bumper.
"So we have decided to engage you," Professor Bumper informed Val Jacinto the afternoon following the meeting. "I am more than pleased, Senor. I shall take you into the wilds of Honduras. At your service!" and he bowed low. "Humph! I don't just like the way our friend Val says that," observed Tom to Ned a little later.
"A moment; and I will tell Piero to wait." And he stepped to the door. "Tell him to go to the devil," I said, and Trotto laughed, and after a word or so exchanged with Piero he closed the door and came back to his seat. "I have sent Piero off," he said, and pouring out a bumper for each of us he raised his cup, saying: "Pledge me this toast, monsieur. Long life to the bride and bridegroom!"
"We must go out," said Professor Bumper simply. "I recognize the right of my rival to dispossess us." "He may have the right, but it isn't human," said Mr. Damon. "Bless my overshoes! If Beecher himself were here he wouldn't have the heart to send us out in this storm." "I would not give him the satisfaction of appealing to him," remarked Professor Bumper. "Come, we will go out.
When I came to my father again, he caught me in his arms, kissed me, patted my head, clapped me on the back, poured out a bumper of wine, bid me drink his toast, "No Naturalization Bill!
Colonel Bludyer rose from his chair, placed his cocked hat on his head, and turned the buckle of his sword-belt in front. "The King!" he shouted, raising his hat with one hand and filling a bumper with the other. "The King!" he repeated, scowling fiercely at his two neighbours.
You did not need to know Tamil or Telugu to learn this, the delight was so evident It was evidently to be the catch of the season! The excitement and movement grew splendid as the bag, still a few yards from shore, was throttled in some way under water. First a small outer bag was pulled ashore, then a bigger one holding the day's catch, a Scotch cartload of fish a bumper bag.
Yes, sir, before he was a week older, "if I have to carry you among 'em like a baby in arms, sir, by gad, sir I should think so!" This was all we wanted, and in another ten minutes we were drinking a bumper to the health of the whole tiger-hunt and of Miss Westonhaugh in particular.
"Yes, it is Pelone," cried Professor Bumper. "See!" He pointed to inscriptions in queer characters over the doorway of some of the houses, but he alone could read them. "I have found Pelone!" he kept repeating over and over again. And that is just what had happened. That last great blast Tom Swift had set off had broken down the rock wall that hid the lost city from view.
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