I will put out no hand to save you."
Myself in Dowie's Shop
I always buy ready-made boots and insist on taking those which the
shopman says are much too large for me. By this means I keep free
from corns, but I have a great deal of trouble generally with the
shopman. I had got on a pair once which I thought would do, and the
shopman said for the third or fourth time:
"But really, sir, these boots are much too large for you." I turned
to him and said rather sternly, "Now, you made that remark before."
There was nothing in it, but all at once I became aware that I was
being watched, and, looking up, saw a middle-aged gentleman eyeing
the whole proceedings with much amusement. He was quite polite but
he was obviously exceedingly amused. I can hardly tell why, nor why
I should put such a trifle down, but somehow or other an impression
was made upon me by the affair quite out of proportion to that
usually produced by so small a matter.
My Dentist
Mr. Forsyth had been stopping a tooth for me and then talked a
little, as he generally does, and asked me if I knew a certain
distinguished literary man, or rather journalist. I said No, and
that I did not want to know him. The paper edited by the gentleman
in question was not to my taste. I was a literary Ishmael, and
preferred to remain so. It was my role.
"It seems to me," I continued, "that if a man will only be careful
not to write about things that he does not understand, if he will use
the tooth-pick freely and the spirit twice a day, and come to you
again in October, he will get on very well without knowing any of the
big-wigs.
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