May I inquire what books you thumb ?" "Thumb ?" Sam, his hard hand released, stared at it a moment perplexed.
"That ain't the _method_, sir; not at our school.

But I'm gettin' along, and the book is called Lord Macaulay." "What?
Macaulay's _Essays ?_" "It's called _Lays_, sir--Lord Macaulay's _Lays_.

The rest of the class chose it, an' I didn' like to cry off, though I 'd not a-flown so high as a lord myself--not to start with." "The _Lays of Ancient Rome ?_ My dear Bossom--my dear Smiles--you'll allow me to dub you Smiles?
_On Self Help_, you know.

I like to call my friends by these playful sobriquets, and friends we are going to be, you and I.

My dear fellow, I used to know 'em by heart--" 'Lars Porsena of Clusium By the nine gods he swore--' "-- Is that the ticket, hey ?" Mr.Mortimer clapped him on the shoulder.