The company sang "From Greenland's Icy Mountains," and Doctor Schoolman offered prayer.

Her eyes looked expectantly toward the quiet looking man who came in with Doctor Schoolman.

Doctor Schoolman was shaking hands with Mr. Carew.

That sort of gathering is what Doctor Schoolman calls 'relaxation,' and I think he is right.

Doctor Schoolman's sermons were nice, and learned, and elevating, and never gave her such uncomfortable thoughts!

But Mrs. Schoolman's eye was caught by the guest next in line and further explanations were unnecessary.

On Sunday the faithful calendar announced it, and Doctor Schoolman made special mention of it, urging attendance.

Doctor Schoolman's sermon was a typical one.

Doctor Schoolman's disciplined countenance betrayed a startled moment and then relapsed into an expression of bland, but non-committal interest.

It was early summer when the Women's Foreign Missionary Society of Doctor Schoolman's church was to have a public meeting.

Doctor Schoolman and his wife were receiving, and our party joined the line of guests making their orderly way toward them.

He was a young man of strong aversions, and one of his special dislikes happened to be the unfortunate Doctor Schoolman.

At Oxford he acquired not only the renown of a consummate Schoolman, but the far more glorious title of the Evangelical Doctor.

Such a partnership would merely revive the old Schoolman debate of the Middle Ages-Whathappens when an irresistible force meets an immovable object?

But she thought of Doctor Schoolman, who raised no objections and always sat with such an expression of bland repose while they sang.

An innate love of combat was in his heart; he loved discussion like a medieval schoolman.