Box.
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It's quite extraordinary, the trouble I always have to get rid of that venerable female! She knows I'm up all night, and yet she seems to set her face against my indulging in a horizontal position by day. Now, let me see—shall I take my nap before I swallow my breakfast, or shall I take my breakfast before I swallow my nap—I mean, shall I swallow my nap before—no—never mind! I've got a rasher of bacon somewhere—[Feeling in his pockets]—I've the most distinct and vivid recollection of having purchased a rasher of bacon—Oh, here it is—[Produces it, wrapped in paper, and places it on table.]—and a penny roll. The next thing is to light the fire. Where are my lucifers? [Looking on mantel-piece r., and taking box, opens it.] Now, 'pon my life, this is too bad of Bouncer—this is, by several degrees, too bad! I had a whole box full, three days ago, and now there's only one! I'm perfectly aware that she purloins my coals and my candles, and my sugar—but I did think—oh, yes, I did think that my lucifers would be sacred! [Takes candlestick off the mantel-piece, r., in which there is a very small end of candle—looks at it.] Now I should like to ask any unprejudiced person or persons their opinion touching this candle. In the first place, a candle is an article that I don't require,
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