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"I reached this one," said my friend, "by sitting upon five

pillows and consuming an ounce of shag. I think, Watson, that if

we drive to Baker Street we shall just be in time for breakfast."

VII. THE ADVENTURE OF THE BLUE CARBUNCLE

I had called upon my friend Sherlock Holmes upon the second

morning after Christmas, with the intention of wishing him the

compliments of the season. He was lounging upon the sofa in a

purple dressing-gown, a pipe-rack within his reach upon the

right, and a pile of crumpled morning papers, evidently newly

studied, near at hand. Beside the couch was a wooden chair, and

on the angle of the back hung a very seedy and disreputable

hard-felt hat, much the worse for wear, and cracked in several

places. A lens and a forceps lying upon the seat of the chair

suggested that the hat had been suspended in this manner for the

purpose of examination.

"You are engaged," said I; "perhaps I interrupt you."