"Gracious, but Tom is getting to be a regular circus gymnast!" cried
Sam, as he watched his brother in admiration. "Just see what beautiful
turns he is making."
"Humph! that aint so wonderful," came from someone at Sam's elbow, and
turning the youngest Rover found himself dose to Billy Tubbs, a short,
stocky youth who had entered Putnam Hall at the opening of the fall
term. Tubbs was a boy of rich parentage, and while he was not
particularly a bully, he considered himself of great importance and
vastly superior to the majority of his associates.
"All right, Tubby; if it isn't so wonderful, just you jump up and do
it," returned Sam coldly.
"Look here, how many times have I told you not to call me Tubby!" burst
out the rich youth. "I don't like it at all."
"Then what shall we call you?" asked Sam innocently. "Tubblets?"
"No, I don't want you to call me Tubblets either. My name is
Tubbs--William Philander Tubbs."
"Gosh! Am I to say all that whenever I want to address you?" demanded
Sam, with a pretended gasp for breath.
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