three--that's one apiece--to punish him for being so real mean!

_Culch._ (_indignantly_). Mean? because I--! (_He pays and dismisses
the Cic._) Now we can examine these monuments in peace--they are
really--er--unique examples of the sepulchral pomp of Italian
mediævalism.

_Miss T._ They're handsome tombs enough--but considerable cramped. I
should have thought these old Scallywags would have looked around
for a roomier burying lot. (_To CULCHARD, who shivers_.) You aren't
feeling sick any?

_Culch._ No--only pained by such a travesty of a noble name.
"Scallywags" for SCALIGERS seems to me, if I may say so, a very cheap
form of humour!

_Miss T._ Well, it's more than cheap--it isn't going to cost you a
cent, so I should think you'd appreciate it!

_Bob P._ Haw--score for _you_, Miss TROTTER!

_Culch._ I should have thought myself that mere personality is hardly
enough to give point to any repartee--there is a slight difference
between brilliancy and--er--_brutality_!

_Bob P._ Hullo! You and I are being sat upon pretty heavily, Miss
TROTTER.

_Miss T._ I guess our Schoolmaster's abroad. But why Mr. CULCHARD
should want to make himself a train out of my coverlets, I don't just