If you can, I'd like you to come around here again this evening.

I'll have Devoe and the coaches here, and we'll talk this--this 'antidote' over again.
Well, good-by." Sydney swung himself to the door, followed by Mills, and got into his tricycle.
"About eight this evening, if you can make it, Burr," said Mills.
"Good-by." He stood at the door and watched the other as he trundled slowly down the street.
"Poor chap!" he muttered.

And then: "Still, I'm not so sure that he's an object of pity.

If he hasn't any legs worth mentioning, the Almighty made it up to him by giving him a whole lot of brains.

If he can't get about like the rest of us he's a great deal more contented, I believe, and if he can't play football he can show others how to.