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. strapon with harness
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? where can i buy strap ons
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
Never mind, come along, says Clive; and the two lads disappear together, leaving the three grown gentlemen to discourse together, or rather two of us to listen to Honeyman, who expatiates upon the beauty of the weather, the difficulties of the clerical calling, the honour Colonel Newcome does him by a visit, etc., with his usual eloquence.
After a while Clive comes down without J. J., from the upper regions. He is greatly excited. Oh, sir, he says to his father, you talk about my drawings you should see J. J.s! By Jove, that fellow is a genius. They are beautiful, sir. You seem actually to read the Arabian Nights, you know, only in pictures. There is Scheherazade telling the stories, and what do you call her? Dinarzade and the Sultan sitting in bed and listening. Such a grim old cove! You see he has cut off ever so many of his wives heads. I cant think where that chap gets his ideas from. I can beat him in drawing horses, I know, and dogs; but I can only draw what I see. Somehow he seems to see things we dont, dont you know? Oh, father, Im determined Id rather be a painter than anything And he falls to drawing horses and dogs at his uncles table, round which the elders are seated.
Ive settled it upstairs with J. J., says Clive, working away with his pen. We shall take a studio together; perhaps we will go abroad together. Wont that be fun, father?