Mr. Dunlop, whose commencement of his official duties consists hitherto in his having made one large blot on a sheet of foolscap, and newly nibbed a quill pen, whistles softly to himself as he regards the work of demolition going on, and mutters in an undertone, "Ursa Major is going it this morning. I shall have all that infernal précis to write over again."
And Paul Derinzy is seated at his desk, but he has not even attempted the pretext of doing any work.
His chin is resting on his hands, and he is gazing straight before him, looking across at George, but not seeing him in the least, for his thoughts are busily engaged elsewhere. George Wainwright is the first to speak.
"I can't compliment you on your effort, my dear Billy," said he laughing, and looking across to Mr. Dunlop. "I don't think I have come across a production in which there was such an entire absence of sense, grammar, and cohesion as this précis of yours, which you have made of the Falmouth collector's report."
"All right, sir," said Mr. Dunlop. "Cut away by all means, don't mind me; sharpen your great wit, and make me the block. What says the poet? 'Great wit to madness often is allied;' and as that is all in your line, fire away."
"What is that you are saying, my dear George?" said Mr. Courtney, looking up from his newspaper. "Our good friend Dunlop been unsuccessful in his praiseworthy attempt?"
"So far as I can see, sir, from the manner in which my dear George's pencil has been at work, our good friend Dunlop seems to have gone a regular mucker with his praiseworthy attempt," said Mr. Dunlop; "and had I any doubt upon the subject, my dear George is good enough to express his opinion of my humble endeavours with a frankness and outspoken candour which do him credit."
"Here, catch hold!" cried George, grinning as he twisted the sheets together, and throwing them across to Billy. "Copy my corrections exactly, and we shall be able to drag you into the first class, and get you your promotion as the reward of merit before you are seventy years old. Fire away, Billy; get on with it at once."
Mr. Dunlop took the papers, placed them before him, and dipped his pen in the ink; but before writing, he looked up with a serio-comic air, and said, "May I be permitted to ask, sir, why the work in this room is to be entirely confined to one of the junior clerks; and why the other, a gentleman who has the advantage of having just returned from the country, where he has enjoyed fresh air, and no doubt exercise, and freedom from that official labour which is the curse of fallen man--why this gentleman is permitted to sit staring vacantly before him, folding his hands like the celebrated slothful person immortalised by Dr. Watts?"
This remark was unheard by Paul; but when Mr. Courtney addressed him, he started and looked up.