Mr Honeyman is at home, gentlemen, the young lad says, humbly. Shall I show you up to his room? And we walk up the stairs after our guide. We find Mr. Honeyman deep in study on his sofa, with Pearson on the Creed before him. The novel has been whipped under the pillow. Clive found it there some short time afterwards, during his uncles temporary absence in his dressing-room. He has agreed to suspend his theological studies, and go out with his brother-inlaw to dine.
As Clive and his friends were at Honeymans door, and just as we were entering to see the divine seated in state before his folio, Clive whispers, J. J., come along, old fellow, and show us some drawings. What are you doing?
I was doing some Arabian Nights, says J. J., up in my room; and hearing a knock which I thought was yours, I came down
Show us the pictures. Lets go up into your room, cries Clive. What will you? says the other. It is but a very small place hollow strap ons