`` Fame , fame , that glittering bauble , it is mine , '' he cried . `` Is it quite good form to be distinguished at anything ? '' the tap-tap from his school replied . `` I am the only man whom Barbecue feared , '' he urged , `` and Flint feared Barbecue . '' `` Barbecue , Flint -- what house ? '' came the cutting retort . Most disquieting reflection of all , was it not bad form to think about good form ? His vitals were tortured by this problem . It was a claw within him sharper than the iron one ; and as it tore him , the perspiration dripped down his tallow -LSB- waxy -RSB- countenance and streaked his doublet . Ofttimes he drew his sleeve across his face , but there was no damming that trickle . Ah , envy not Hook . There came to him a presentiment of his early dissolution -LSB- death -RSB- . It was as if Peter 's terrible oath had boarded the ship . Hook felt a gloomy desire to make his dying speech , lest presently there should be no time for it . `` Better for Hook , '' he cried , `` if he had had less ambition ! '' It was in his darkest hours only that he referred to himself in the third person . `` No little children to love me ! '' Strange that he should think of this , which had never troubled him before ; perhaps the sewing machine brought it to his mind . For long he muttered to himself , staring at Smee , who was hemming placidly , under the conviction that all children feared him . Feared him !
Feared XXXXX !
Barbecue Flint Peter Smee damming doublet hours presentiment tap-tap third