"How are you, Blyth?
These are the pills for that sluggish old liver of yours that you're always complaining of.

Put 'em on.

Stand with your left leg forward--keep your right leg easily bent--and fix your eye on me!" "Hold your tongue!" cried Mr.Blyth, at last recovering breath enough to assert his dignity as master of the new drawing-school.

"Take off those things directly! What do you mean, sir, by coming into my academy, which is devoted to the peaceful arts, in the attitude of a prize-fighter ?" "Don't lose your temper, my dear fellow," rejoined Zack; "you will never learn to use your fists prettily if you do.

Here, Patty, the boxing lesson's put off till to-morrow.