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the dressing-room, which was the state bedroom in miniature, only a good deal more comfortable. The rooms communicated with double doors, and our friends very soon effected a passage. Have you any baccy? asked Jack, waddling in in his slippers, after having sucked off his tops without the aid of a boot-jack. Theres some in my jacket-pocket, replied Sponge, nodding to where it hung in the wardrobe; but it wont do to smoke here, will it? asked he. Why not? enquired Jack. Such a fine room, replied Sponge, looking around. Oh, fine be hanged! replied Jack; adding, as he made for the jacket, no place too fine for smokin in. Having helped himself to one of the best cigars, and lighted it, Jack composed himself cross-legged in an easy, spring, stuffed chair, while Sponge fussed about among the writing implements, watering and stirring up the clotted ink, and denouncing each pen in succession, as he gave it the initiatory trial in writing the word Sponge. Curse the pens! exclaimed he, throwing the last bright crisp yellow thing from him in disgust. Theres not one among em that can go! -- all reglarly stumped up. Havent you a penknife? asked Jack, taking the cigar out of his mouth. Not I, replied Sponge. Take a razor, then, said Jack, who was good at an expedient. Ill take one of yours, said Sponge, going into the dressing-room for one. Hang it, but youre rather too sharp, exclaimed Jack, with a shake of his head. Its more than your razorll be when Im done with it, replied Sponge. Having at length, with the aid of Jacks razor, succeeded in getting a pen that would write, Mr Sponge selected a sheet of best cream-laid satin paper, and taking a cane-bottomed chair placed himself at the table in an attitude for writing. Dipping the fine yellow pen in the ink, he looked in Jacks face for an idea. Jack, who had now got well advanced in his cigar, sat squinting through his spectacles at our scribe, though apparently looking at the top of the bed. Well, said Sponge, with a look of enquiry. Well, replied Jack, in a tone of indifference. How shall I begin? asked Sponge, twirling the pen between his fingers, and spluttering the ink over the paper. Begin! replied Jack, begin, oh, begin, just as you usually begin. As a letter? asked Sponge. Ispose so, replied Jack; how would you think? O, I dont know, replied Sponge. Will you try your hand? added he, holding out the pen. |
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