" "There's a bunch of the fellows going," said Mr. Batch, standing at the window, looking out over roofs, dilly-dallying up and down on his heels and breaking into a low, contemplative whistle.

There was too much of this dilly-dallying.

If you dilly-dally till those accursed Callenders get back, asking, for instance, for theirha, ha!their totally evaporated chest of plategr-r-r!