"If you are in any hurry, sir, permit me to take brother Ibbetson's place, and show you round.

Oh," he added falsely, seeing the visitor hesitate, "it won't hurt _him_ at all! I don't like to mention it, but any small gratuities bestowed on the Brethren are carried to a common fund." Ibbetson, harking back from a vain search to find his bird had flown, encountered Porter Manby returning with Brother Warboise from the brew-house, and tremulously opened up his distress.
"Eh ?" snapped Warboise, after exchanging glances with the Porter.
"Clerihew said Manby was in the kitchen, did he?
But he'd left us at the brewhouse not a minute before." "And the key! gone from the hook!" chimed in Porter Manby, "where I'll swear I left it.

This is one of Clerihew's monkeyings, you bet." "I'll monkey him," growled Brother Warboise.
The three kept sentry, knowing that Clerihew must sooner or later return with his convoy, there being no other exit.

When at length he hove in sight with his convoy his face wore an uneasy, impudent smile.

He was the richer by half a crown.