This pleasant recrimination might have proceeded I know not how long, greatly to the detriment of my task, had not some one at the other desk changed the subject.
“Don’t you fret, you there,” said he, “the junior’s not for you at all. He’s for the imports. I told the governor we wanted a boy in our department last week.”
“You did!” exclaimed Doubleday. “Why, I told him we couldn’t possibly do without more help here in the exports a fortnight ago.”
I don’t know if any one saw my face when this glorious announcement was made. I could have danced on my desk for joy! Just suppose—suppose it should turn out that Jack Smith should be taken on in the export department and I in the import—or the other way round! I could hardly contain myself at the bare idea. Wouldn’t I be glad! I would get Wallop one-and-fourpenny gloves and only charge him one-and-three for them, to signalise the joyous event. I would let myself out as a slave to the entire office, if only Jack Smith and I were both taken on! How was he getting on in the partners’ room? I wondered. I hoped—
“I suppose you’ve done,” said Doubleday, looking round at this point; “if so you can hook it.”
“I haven’t quite,” said I, dashing back to my work.
I finished at last, and before Jack had come out of the inner-room too.
I handed my papers to Doubleday, who looked at them critically.
“Well,” he said, “that’s a pretty show. Have a look at this, Wallop, I say. Your youngest grandchild could make his sevens nearly as well as that!”
As Mr Wallop was about eighteen years old, I ventured to regard this language as figurative on the part of Mr Doubleday, and trusted the sevens were not quite as bad as he made out.