Byng

“ The man repeated whatever he had said before, this time with a gesture of impatience.
“Friend!” roared Byng and Curley both together. And the bull terrier took the joint yell for a war cry, or a bunting call, or possibly the herald's overture that summons bull pups to Valhalla. He was bred right and British Navy trained and his was not to reason why. He waited for no second invitation, but lit out from Byng's arms like a streak—a whip-tail, snow-white streak—for where the Arab's hard lean legs shone shiny-brown below his fluttering brown raiment. ”

“ Whether to hinder his friend from being made a liar, or because he himself is loth to leave a world which he has found so pretty, cruel, and amusing, Byng does not die—Byng lives.
By her 25th day February has dried her tears, though they still hang on her green lashes, and a great galleon of a sun steers through a tremendous sea of blue, as Jim persuades Byng's mother to go out for her first delicious drive in that fresh and satin-soft air of the Algerian February, which matches our best poets' May. ”

“ Fellowes replied, and, shaking hands with Byng, who gave him an enveloping look and a friendly greeting, he left the room.
"Such a boy—Adrian," Jasmine said, as they sat down.
"Boy—he looks thirty or more!" remarked Byng in a dry tone.
"He is just thirty. I call him a boy because he is so young in most things that matter to people. He is the most sumptuous person—entirely a luxury. Did you ever see such colouring—like a woman's! But selfish, as I said, and useful, too, is Adrian. Yes, he really is very useful. ”

“ They were all enraged at Byng because he had disregarded all warnings regarding Krool; but what could they do? Instinctively they turned now to Stafford, whose reputation for brains and diplomacy was so great and whose friendship with Byng was so close.
Stafford had come to-day for two reasons: to do what he could to help Byng—for the last time; and to say to Byng that they could not travel together to South Africa. To make the long journey with him was beyond his endurance. He must put the world between Rudyard and himself; he must efface all companionship. ”

“ Byng's blank amazement served only to incense his visitor further. "Yes, be damned to it, Byng!" he continued. "I'm sick of the British Empire and the All Red, and the 'immense future.' What I want is the present. It's about big enough for you and me and the rest of us. I want to hold our own in Johannesburg. I want to pull thirty-five millions a year out of the eighty miles of reef, and get enough native labour to do it. I want to run the Rand like a business concern, with Kruger gone to Holland; and Leyds gone to blazes. That's what I want to see, Mr. Invincible Rudyard Byng." ”

“ Jasmine was saying as Byng entered.
Either Jasmine did not hear the servant announce Byng, or she pretended not to do so, and the words were said so distinctly that Byng heard them as he came forward.
"Well, he is selfish," she added to Byng, as she shook hands. "I've known him since I was a child, and he has always had the best of everything and given nothing for it." Turning again to Fellowes, she continued: "Yes, it's true. The golden apples just fall into your hands." ”

“ Again Byng shook him by the hand warmly. "Well, Wallstein will give us a fat dinner to-night, and you can moralize with lime-light effects after the foie gras, Barry."
Closing the door slowly behind his friend, whom he had passed into the hands of the dark-browed Krool, Byng turned again to his desk. As he did so he caught sight of his face in the mirror over the mantel-piece. A shadow swept over it; his lips tightened.
"Barry was right," he murmured, scrutinizing himself. "I've degenerated. We've all degenerated. What's the matter, anyhow? What is the matter? ”

“ Byng asked, mechanically, and looking reflectively at Krool.
"Wallstein's a sick man, Byng. You can't leave London. You're the only real politician among us. Some one else must go to Johannesburg."
"You—Barry?"
"You know I can't, Byng—there's my girl. Besides, I don't carry enough weight, anyhow, and you know that too."
Byng remembered Whalen's girl—stricken down with consumption a few months before. He caught Whalen's arm in a grip of friendship. "All right, dear old man," he said, kindly. "Fleming shall go, and I'll stay. ”

“ After early lunch, left in the Arno for Suvla. With me were Braithwaite, Manifold, Freddy and Val. Walked up to the 9th Corps Headquarters and saw Byng. I am very anxious indeed he should work his men up into the mood for making a push. He charms everyone and he is fast pulling his force together. Maude, Fanshawe, and de Lisle seem to be keen to do something, but Byng, though he also is keen, has the French standards for ammunition in his head. He does not think we have enough to warrant us in making an attack. ”

“ With moist eyes Byng grasped the hand of the rough-hewn comrade of the veld, and shook it warmly.
"England has got on your nerves, Barry," he said, gently. "But we're all right in London. The key-board of the big instrument is here."
"But the organ is out there, Byng, and it's the organ that makes the music, not the keys. We're all going to pieces here, every one of us. I see it. Herr Gott, I see it plain enough! We're in the wrong shop. We're not buying or selling; we're being sold. Baas—big Baas, let's go where there's room to sling a stone; where we can see what's going on round us ”

“ His eldest son, George, received the honor of knighthood from Queen Anne, for his gallant behaviour in the battle off Malaga [1] ; and after performing many other signal services, he was raised to the dignity of the peerage by the title of Baron Byng of Southill, co. Bedford, and Viscount Torrington, of Torrington, in Devonshire. ”

“ He changed his tactics with adroitness. If he failed now, it would be final. He thought he knew where she might be really vulnerable.
"Byng will be disappointed and surprised when he hears of the famine that the prima donna has left behind her. Byng is one of the best that ever was. He is trying to do his fellow-creatures a good turn down there at the mine. He never did any harm that I ever heard of—and this is his house, and these are his guests. He would, I'll stake my life, do Al'mah a good turn if he could, even if it cost him something quite big. He is that kind of a man. ”

“ Still Byng made for Minorca, and tried unsuccessfully to open communications with the garrison. He had a slight engagement {298} with the French, and then he brought his squadron away. The news created such an outburst of passion in England that the Duke of Newcastle made up his mind at once to sacrifice Byng to the popular fury. Byng was tried at Spithead, found guilty of having failed in his duty, and shot on March 14, 1757. He died like a brave man. It went heavily against Newcastle in later days that he was believed to have promised the sacrifice of Byng before the trial had even begun. ”

“ The Belliqueux continued on the East India station until the month of June, 1810, at which time Captain Byng received orders to proceed to China, for the purpose of affording protection to the homeward-bound trade. ”

“ Nothing could leak through. Let's try the other door, leading into the hall." They went over to it. "You see, here's an inside baize-door as well. There's not room for a person to stand between the two. I'll go out now, and you stay. Talk fairly loud."
The test produced the same result.
"Maybe I talk in my sleep," remarked Byng, with a troubled, ironical laugh.
Suddenly there shot into Barry Whalen's mind a thought which startled him, which brought the colour to his face with a rush. For years he had suspected Krool, had considered him a danger. ”

“ Why, then, they'll swing, like better men,
⁠And that will end the job-by O!
"Philo-Radicle.
"April 15, 1820." ↑ * "Southwark's Knight" was General Sir Robert Thomas Wilson (1777-1849) , who was returned for Southwark in 1818, and again in 1820; "County Byng" was George Byng, M.P. for Middlesex; and "Bobby" was Sir Robert Waithman (1764-1833) , who represented the City of London in 1818, but lost his seat to Sir William Curtis in 1820. All these were advanced Liberals, and, as such, Parliamentary friends of Hobhouse. ”

“ He is gone now, is Li Sin, but I can see him as plainly as though he were standing beside me. A rather squat sort of man, with a squarish face and high cheek-bones. His shining black hair was parted smoothly at the side, and there was a look of health in the transparent quality of his brown skin and in the whites of his slanting eyes. There was always a quiet smile on his lips, and he wore the tweed and broadcloth of America with as much ease as the blouse and silken trousers of his own land. The only Oriental hint in his clothes was the suppressed gorgeousness of his neckties. ”

“ Bindle pondered a moment, then a smile irradiated his features, developing into a broad grin.
"You're too touchy, Ginger. I wasn't goin' to say, 'Ginger, you're barmy.'" Ginger winced and clenched his fists. "I was goin' to say, 'Ginger, you're no good at marriage wi'out tack. If yer 'ad more tack maybe yer wouldn't 'ave got married."
Ginger spat viciously in the direction of the spittoon, but his feelings were too strong for accurate aim.
"The parsons say as marriages is made in 'eaven," growled Ginger. "Why don't 'eaven feed the kids? That's wot I want to know." ”

“ Ginger continued to gaze at Bindle with surprise stamped on his freckled face.
"You got a kid's job to 'is, Ging," continued Bindle, warming to his subject. "If Llewellyn John 'ops round the corner for a drink an' to 'ave a look at the papers, they're after 'im in two ticks. Why 'e's 'ad to give up 'is 'ot bath on Saturday nights because 'e was always catchin' cold through nippin' out into the 'all to answer the telephone, 'im in only a smile an' 'is whiskers." ”

“ Ah Wing continued to stare imperturbably down at his guest, but the ghost of a smile showed at the corners of his usually expressionless mouth.
“No,” he agreed, “I am not a Chinaman. And I am not a Caucasian. You see that, dressed as I am today, I look unmistakably Oriental. Dressed like a man of Hong Kong, on the other hand, I look American or English. That has been my curse, and perhaps my blessing: the mixing of two irreconcilable blood lines has made me an outcast. I have no place in the government of any country, and therefore I have organized a government of my own. ”

“ Bindle's cry had attracted general attention to Graves, but too late to stop him. With a bound he reached the door and tore down the stairs.
"After him, you chaps," cried Guggers, and with yells and cries ranging from "Tally-ho!" to the "Bushmen's war-cry" the whole company streamed out of Bungem's and tore down "the High" in hot pursuit.
That night those who were late out beheld the strange sight of a white-faced man in evening-dress running apparently for his life, pursued by a pack of some two hundred other men similarly garbed and uttering the most horrible shouts and threats. ”

“ How is it you have managed to come home for your holidays so early?"
"We don't have holidays at Cambridge, Martha," said Mr. Binney; "we call them vacations. And of course we can come away when we like—that is if the dons will let us."
"Well, it is a very agreeable surprise to see you, Peter," said Mrs. Higginbotham. "But how you have altered! Why, you have cut off your beautiful whiskers!"
"Yes," said Mr. Binney. "Fellows don't wear whiskers at Cambridge. It is considered old-fashioned. How do you like the change, Martha?" ”

“ In any case conceive one's pride in realizing suddenly that one has been called after a province and not after a poodle. It has determined Bingo unalterably to grow up in the right way.
You have Bingo now definitely a Pekinese. That being so, I may refer to his ancestors, always an object of veneration among these Easterns. I speak of (hats off, please!) Ch. Goodwood Lo.
Of course you know (I didn't myself till last week) that "Ch." stands for "Champion." On the male side Champion Goodwood Lo is Bingo's great-great-grandfather. On the female side the same animal is Bingo's great-grandfather. ”

“ The evening-paper that Bindle brought home possessed a new interest for her.
"Anything about the summer-camps?" she would ask, interrupting Bindle in his study of the cricket and racing news, until at last he came to hate the very name of summer-camps and all they implied.
"That's the worst o' religion," he grumbled one night at The Yellow Ostrich; "it comes a-buttin' into your 'ome life, an' then there ain't no peace."
"I don't 'old wiv religion," growled Ginger.
"I ain't got nothink to say against religion as religion," Bindle had remarked; "but I bars summer-camps." ”

“ In the dusk the horse glowed like a living jewel that holds the light when the sun has gone. Night fell, and the golden hide became a shimmer in the dark, as the outlaw moved restlessly to and fro in his prison. Then, of a sudden, with the unexpectedness and unreason of a dog’s wolf-howl at the rising moon, there rose from the gloom of the corral a shrill, wild neigh that shattered the peaceful silence of the night.
Haig left the fence, and walked swiftly to the barn.
“Farrish!” he said shortly. “We’ll break Sunnysides to-morrow. Tell Pete and Curly not to ride away in the morning. ”

“ Bingen is a good sort of manufacturing town, and the fact that the poet selected the name because of its rhythm and not because it fitted the situation accounts for the success of the poem. After some reflection on the subject among the storied regions of Europe I have come to the conclusion that it is the romancer and the singer who make a country great and interesting, and not any special merit of the place itself. If Cow creek had a few legend-writers in a few years it would rank with the Rhine, the Black Forest, and even the fields of old England. ”