How, he wondered, was the poor fellow getting on that moment in his distant uncongenial work?
"You're not obliged to read all the paragraphs, you know," said Waterford, as Horace's hand slackened amid these musings.

"It's a close shave to get done as it is, and he's marked a frightful lot this morning." He was right.

All the cuttings had to be taken out and pasted on sheets before twelve o'clock, and it took the three of them, hard at work with scissors and paste, to get the task accomplished.

They talked very little, and joked still less; but when it was all done, like three honest men, they felt pleased with themselves, and decidedly amiable towards one another.
"Now Booms is going out for the grub, aren't you, Booms?
He'll get some for you too, young 'un, if you like." "No, thanks; I'd be very glad, but I promised to have dinner with my brother--he's a compositor here." "Lucky man!" groaned Booms.

"Think of having nothing to do but pick up types instead of slaving like this every day!" "See the sausages are hot this time, won't you, Booms?
And look alive, there's a dear fellow." Booms retired sadly.
"Good-natured chap, Booms," said Waterford; "rather a risk of imposing on him if one isn't careful.