I will smash him to atoms.

Upon my honor and reputation, he shall not escape me this way--I'll send him home a hoop--a triangle--a zoologist.

I'll beat him into mustard, the cowardly scoundrel! And only you were a magistrate, father, I would have done it before you.

Let me go, I say--the M'Clutchy blood is up in me! Father, you're a scoundrel if you hold me! You know what a lion I am--what a raging lion, when roused.

Hands off, M'Clutchy, I say, when you know I'm a thunderbolt.' "The tugging and pulling that took place here between the father and son were extraordinary, and I could not in common decency decline assisting the latter to hold him in.