“Well, ha-jolly-ha to YOU, young Stiffie-- with knobs on!”

“And so the merry party began. It was one of those jolly, happy, bread-crumbling parties where you cough twice before you speak, and then decide not to say it after all.”

“He looked at me like Lillian Gish coming out of a swoon."Is this Bertie Wooster talking?" he said, pained."Yes, it jolly well is!""Bertie, old man," said Bingo, patting me gently here and there, "reflect! We were at school - ""Oh, all right!”

“He seemed to be doing his best to marry into a family of pronounced loonies, and how the deuce he thought he was going to support even a mentally afflicted wife on nothing a year beat me. Old Bittlesham was bound to knock off his allowance if he did anything of the sort and, with a fellow like young Bingo, if you knocked off his allowance, you might just as well hit him on the head with an axe and make a clean job of it.”

“Betting!" he gargled. "Betting! You don't mean that they're betting on this holy, sacred - Oh, I say, dash it all! Haven't people any sense of decency and reverence? Is nothing safe from their beastly, sordid graspingness? I wonder," said young Bingo thoughtfully, "if there's a chance of my getting any of that seven-to-one money? Seven to one! What a price! Who's offering it, do you know? Oh, well, I suppose it wouldn't do. No, I suppose it wouldn't be quite the thing.”

“He was one of those supercilious striplings who give you the impression that you went to the wrong school and that your clothes don't fit."This is Oswald," said Bingo."What," I replied cordially, "could be sweeter? How are you?""Oh, all right," said the kid."Nice place, this.""Oh, all right," said the kid."Having a good time fishing?""Oh, all right," said the kid.Young Bingo led me off to commune apart."Doesn't jolly old Oswald's incessant flow of prattle make your head ache sometimes?" I asked.Bingo sighed.”

“Well, you know, there are limits to the sacred claims of friendship.”