[…] the porter at the rail-road had seen a scuffle; or when he found it was likely to bring him in as a witness, then it might not have been a scuffle, only a little larking […]

fondant chocolate

I can see the old schoolroom yet: the broken-down desks and the worn-out forms with knots in that got stuck into your backside […].

Nearby, Marikosan picked the rising and curling forestems for later cooking.