"Or, d'ye hear, hang it, tell Mr. Mason there are seven or eight other
new works, the names of which I have forgotten, and he must recollect."

"Certainly, sir."

"Stop, stop--don't be in such a hurry--tell him, he has never ordered
for me the Quarterly, as I desired--that I want to see the United
Service Journal, and Blackwood for the month; and that if he chooses to
charge four pence a night for his new novels, I'll not read one of
them."

"Of course, sir; I'll tell him, for 'tis a shame, a real shame, for any
body to _repose_ on, as one may say, a gentleman like yourself. Never
fear, but I'll tell him."

The lady retired, the door closed, and Mr. Hardingham sighed, "A worthy
creature is Martha Honeydew." "Come in," cried the gentleman in a most
amiable tone, as he presently recognised his housekeeper's tap at the
parlour door, and with a curtsey she entered.

"O law, law! Mr. Hardingham, sir--Mr. Mason says--but I don't like to
give you all his message, indeed I don't--Mr. Mason says--but I hope
you'll never send me on such an _arrant_ again--he says, sir--O but I'm
sorry for it, that I am--he says then, that the _Quarter_ you _ax'd_
for, ar'n't come yet, and there's time enough for you to read it in when
it _do_; that the Blackwood and the Officers' Magazine are _hout_; that
you may go without your new novels afore he'll let you have 'em
_chaiper_ than other folks, (and there's a shocking shame, sir!) and as
for the works you mentioned, there's fifty new ones at least to choose
from; but he can't remember what you don't be pleased to recollect