Tartar.
And then they fell to shaking hands most heartily again.
'Imagine,' exclaimed Mr. Crisparkle, with glistening eyes: 'Miss
Rosa Bud and Mr. Grewgious, imagine Mr. Tartar, when he was the
smallest of juniors, diving for me, catching me, a big heavy
senior, by the hair of the head, and striking out for the shore
with me like a water-giant!'
'Imagine my not letting him sink, as I was his fag!' said Mr.
Tartar. 'But the truth being that he was my best protector and
friend, and did me more good than all the masters put together, an
irrational impulse seized me to pick him up, or go down with him.'
'Hem! Permit me, sir, to have the honour,' said Mr. Grewgious,
advancing with extended hand, 'for an honour I truly esteem it. I
am proud to make your acquaintance. I hope you didn't take cold.
I hope you were not inconvenienced by swallowing too much water.
How have you been since?'
It was by no means apparent that Mr. Grewgious knew what he said,
though it was very apparent that he meant to say something highly
friendly and appreciative.
If Heaven, Rosa thought, had but sent such courage and skill to her
poor mother's aid! And he to have been so slight and young then!
'I don't wish to be complimented upon it, I thank you; but I think
I have an idea,' Mr. Grewgious announced, after taking a jog-trot
or two across the room, so unexpected and unaccountable that they
all stared at him, doubtful whether he was choking or had the
cramp--'I THINK I have an idea.
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