Page 117 (1/2)

Here, finding that he still held the open letter in his hand,

Barnabas refolded it and thrust it into his pocket, while Mr Sly caressed his whiskers, and his bold, black eyes darted

glances here and there, fro his pen to the table,

fro, and froain, and hovered there

"Sir," said Barnabas without looking up, "pray excuse the blot, the

pen was a bad one; I a another, as you see"

Mr Smivvle started, and raised his eyes swiftly Stared at

unconscious Barnabas, rubbed his nose, felt for his whisker, and,

having found it, tugged it viciously

"Blot, sir!" he exclaimed loudly; "now, upon my soul and honor--what

blot, sir?"

"This," said Barnabas, taking up his unfinished letter to the

Viscount--"if you've finished, we may as well destroy it," and

forthwith he crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it into the empty

fireplace

"Sir!" exclaimed Mr Smivvle, louder than before, "'pon my soul, now,

if youat Barnabas, and

with his whiskers fiercer than ever

"Well, sir?" inquired Barnabas, still busily tri Barnabas was quite unconscious of it,

shook his head, felt for his whisker again, found it, tugged it, and

laughed jovially

"Sir," said he, "you are a devilish sharp fellow, and a fine fellow

I swear you are I like your spirit, on my soul and honor I do, and,