Digital primer

All, however, was darkness, save the expiring embers in the
grate. The tick, tick, tick, ticking of the clocks sounded wonderfully
clear.
'Gone to bed!' exclaimed Sponge.
'WHO-HOOP!' shrieked Jack, at the top of his voice.
'What's smatter, gentlemen?--What's smatter?' exclaimed Spigot rushing in,
rubbing his eyes with one hand, and holding a block tin candlestick in the
other.
'Nothin',' replied Jack, squinting his eyes inside out; adding, 'get me a
devilled--' (hiccup).
'Don't know how to do them here, sir,' snapped Spigot.
'Devilled turkey's leg though you do, you rascal!' rejoined Jack, doubling
his fists and putting himself in posture.
'Beg pardon, sir,' replied Spigot, 'but the cook, sir, is gone to bed, sir.
Do you know, sir, what o'clock it is, sir?'
'No,' replied Jack.
'What time is it?' asked Sponge.
'Twenty minutes to two,' replied Spigot, holding up a sort of pocket
warming-pan, which he called a watch.
'The deuce!' exclaimed Sponge.
'Who'd ha' thought it?' muttered Jack.
'Well, then, I suppose we may as well go to bed,' observed Sponge.


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