The peer smoothed a ruffled top-knot with ineffable grace.
"Likewise am determined you shall take lessons. Now it is no use, duky. I mean to be tender but firm with you."
The Potentate gave a stertorous chortle, and, stretching out his arms, fell in a strawberry-leaf swoon on the parquet floor, his ducal head on the lap of his adored Jane.
The Freemasonry of the Wheel.—"Rippin' wevver fer hus ciciklin' chaps, ain't it?"
