No, really, I like some of the others—four or five of them; but I don't like Arty.
They came as young as you, Arty, and as weak as you, but no one ever made them do wrong.
Why, Arty, your illness is all the more reason why I should.
Nonsense, Arty; the summer holidays will bring you round again.
How they did go on about Wellintun, and what an arty contamp they ad for him!