Boy,' said the gentleman in the high chair, 'listen to me.
You have come here to be educated, and taught a useful trade,' said the red-faced gentleman in the high chair.
Bumble rushed into the room in great excitement, and addressing the gentleman in the high chair, said,
Grose herself for, the pleasure I could see her feel in my admiration and wonder as I sat at supper with four tall candles and with my pupil, in a high chair
and a bib, brightly facing me, between them, over bread and milk.
A high chair
on wheels moved by, through the field of red light, carrying a shadowy figure with floating hair, and arms furiously raised and lowered working the machinery that propelled the chair at its utmost rate of speed.
The next thing I remember is that it was morning: breakfast was just over: Sylvie was lifting Bruno down from a high chair
, and saying to a Spaniel, who was regarding them with a most benevolent smile, "Yes, thank you we've had a very nice breakfast.
He obeyed her, and she leaned back in the high chair
She saw her, with the baby in her arms, sitting down to tea; she saw them all at table, and little Harry in a high chair
, under the shadow of Rachel's ample wing; there were low murmurs of talk, gentle tinkling of tea-spoons, and musical clatter of cups and saucers, and all mingled in a delightful dream of rest; and Eliza slept, as she had not slept before, since the fearful midnight hour when she had taken her child and fled through the frosty starlight.
I like to dine here," he said to his aunt when he had completed his meal, at the conclusion of which, and after a decent grace by Sir Pitt, the younger son and heir was introduced, and was perched on a high chair
by the Baronet's side, while the daughter took possession of the place and the little wine-glass prepared for her near her mother.
The conductor in his high chair
assisted in passing the offering, and straightened his white tie.
The small chirruping voice that uttered this request came from a little sunny-haired girl between three and four, who, seated on a high chair
at the end of the ironing table, was arduously clutching the handle of a miniature iron with her tiny fat fist, and ironing rags with an assiduity that required her to put her little red tongue out as far as anatomy would allow.
At the further end, in two high chairs
as large as that of the Abbot, though hardly as elaborately carved, sat the master of the novices and the chancellor, the latter a broad and portly priest, with dark mirthful eyes and a thick outgrowth of crisp black hair all round his tonsured head.