Nor did Mr.Clarke's black patch and rueful countenance pass unnoticed and unridiculed.

As for Timothy Crabshaw, he beheld his brother squire with the contempt of a veteran; and Gilbert paid him his compliments with his heels at parting.

But when our adventurer and his retinue were clear of the inn, Mr.Sycamore ordered his trumpeter to sound a retreat, by way of triumph over his antagonist.
Perhaps he would have contented himself with this kind of victory, had not Dawdle further inflamed his envy and ambition, by launching out in praise of Sir Launcelot.

He observed that his countenance was open and manly; his joints strong knit, and his form unexceptionable; that he trod like Hercules, and vaulted into the saddle like a winged Mercury.

Nay, he even hinted it was lucky for Sycamore that the knight of the Crescent happened to be so pacifically disposed.