I believe if our mutual friend Smallweed were put into the box, he could prove this ?" Mr.Smallweed nods and appears greedy to be sworn.
"Now, gentlemen of the jury," says Mr.Guppy, "-- I mean, now, Jobling--you may say this is a poor prospect of a living.

Granted.
But it's better than nothing, and better than enlistment.

You want time.

There must be time for these late affairs to blow over.

You might live through it on much worse terms than by writing for Snagsby." Mr.Jobling is about to interrupt when the sagacious Smallweed checks him with a dry cough and the words, "Hem! Shakspeare!" "There are two branches to this subject, Jobling," says Mr.Guppy.
"That is the first.