You want to copy these letters in here." He sniffed twice, gave a quick chew at his gum, stared fixedly at a letter, then went very still and absorbed, and wrote the entry rapidly, in a beautiful flourishing hand.

He glanced quickly at Paul.
"See that ?" "Yes." "Think you can do it all right ?" "Yes." "All right then, let's see you." He sprang off his stool.

Paul took a pen.

Mr.Pappleworth disappeared.
Paul rather liked copying the letters, but he wrote slowly, laboriously, and exceedingly badly.

He was doing the fourth letter, and feeling quite busy and happy, when Mr.Pappleworth reappeared.
"Now then, how'r' yer getting on?
Done 'em ?" He leaned over the boy's shoulder, chewing, and smelling of chlorodyne.
"Strike my bob, lad, but you're a beautiful writer!" he exclaimed satirically.