My Virtual Reading Room

I returned to Baker Street after a weekend in the country and was greeted by the familiar sight of Sherlock Holmes tearing apart the sitting room in search of something.

“Watson, you’re back!” he exclaimed.  “Have you seen my commonplace book?  It seems to have disappeared.”

“As I recall, you used it last week as a weight  to press some of the newer newspaper cuttings flat,” I returned. “…Ah, here it is.”  I retrieved the item in question from the piles of papers and various miscellanea littering Holmes’s desk.

Having just returned from what was supposed to be a restful weekend fishing in the country (the fish did not bite and I got drenched by the rain, catching a cold as a result), I was already in a foul temper.  I started checking through my black bag to make certain I had all the supplies I needed. Everything seemed to be in order until I discovered my stethoscope was missing.

 “Holmes!  Have you seen my stethoscope?”

“Um…no, not just lately…”

“Stop prevaricating, man, out with it!  I cannot attend to my practice without the essential instrument of my trade!”

“Erm… I accidentally spilled sulfuric acid on it last night…I am afraid it was ruined beyond repair; my apologies.”

As I was already at the end of my patience, this pushed me over the brink.

“I’ve put up with cigars in the coal-scuttle, criminal relics in the butter-dish and papers strewn all over the sitting room— but destroying my stethoscope is going rather too far! What were you doing with my stethoscope in the first place?! There are days I rue ever having met Stamford!  I intend to look for different lodgings immediately!” I finished, breathing hard.

Holmes hung his head, looking just like a scolded little boy.

“I beg you to reconsider, Doctor. I would be lost without my Boswell.”