000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. HACKETT turned the corner and saw, in the failing light, at some little distance, his 000:001;01[' ]| seat. It seemed to$9$ be$1$ occupied. This seat, the property very likely of the municipality, or 000:001;01[' ]| of the public, was of course not his, but he thought of it as his. This was Mr. Hackett's 000:001;01[' ]| attitude towards things that pleased him. He knew they were not his, but he thought of 000:001;01[' ]| them as his. He knew were not his, because they pleased him. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Halting, he looked at the seat with greater care. Yes, it was not vacant. Mr. Hackett saw 000:001;01[' ]| things a little more clearly when he was still. His walk was a very agitated walk. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Hackett did not know whether he should go on, or whether he should turn back. 000:001;01[' ]| Space was open on his right hand, and on his left hand, but he knew that he would never 000:001;01[' ]| take advantage of this. He knew also that he would not long remain motionless, for the 000:001;01[' ]| state of his health rendered this unfortunately impossible. The dilemma was thus of 000:001;01[' ]| extreme simplicity: to$9$ go on, or to$9$ turn, and return, round the corner, the way he had 000:001;01[' ]| come. Was he, in other words, to$9$ go home at once, or was he to$9$ remain out a little 000:001;01[' ]| longer? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Stretching out his left hand, he fastened it round a rail. This permitted him to$9$ strike his 000:001;01[' ]| stick against the pavement. The feel, in his palm, of the thudding rubber appeased him, 000:001;01[' ]| slightly. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But he had not reached the corner when he turned again and hastened towards the seat, 000:001;01[' ]| as fast as his legs could carry him. When he was so near the seat, that he could have$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| touched it with his stick, if he had wished, he again halted and examined its occupants. 000:001;01[' ]| He had the right, he supposed, to$9$ stand and wait for the tram. They too were perhaps 000:001;01[' ]| waiting for the tram, for a tram, for many trams stopped here, when requested, from 000:001;01[' ]| without or within, to$9$ do$1$ so. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Hackett decided, after some moments, that if they were waiting for a tram they had 000:001;01[' ]| been doing so for some time. For the lady held the gentleman by the ears, and the 000:001;01[' ]| gentleman's hand was on the lady's thigh, and the lady's tongue was in the gentleman's 000:001;01[' ]| mouth. Tired of waiting for the tram, said <1> Mr. Hackett, they strike up a acquaintance. 000:001;01[' ]| The lady now removing her$2$ tongue from the gentleman's mouth, he put his into hers. 000:001;01[' ]| Fair do, said Mr. Hackett. Taking a pace forward, to$9$ satisfy himself that the gentleman's 000:001;01[' ]| other hand was not going to$9$ waste, Mr. Hackett was shocked to$9$ find it limply dangling 000:001;01[' ]| over the back of the seat, with between its fingers the spent three-quarters of a cigarette, 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I see no indecency, said the policeman. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| We arrive too late, said Mr. Hackett. What a shame. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Do you take me for a fool? said the policeman. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Hackett recoiled a step, forced back his head until he thought his throatskin would 000:001;01[' ]| burst, and saw at last, afar, bent angrily upon him, the red violent face. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Officer, he cried, as God is my witness, he had his hand upon it. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| God is a witness that can not be$1$ sworn. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| If I interrupted your beat, said Mr. Hackett, a thousand pardons. I did so with the best 000:001;01[' ]| intentions, for you, for me, for the community at large. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The policeman replied briefly to$4$ this. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| <1. Much valuable space has been saved, in this work, that would otherwise have$1$ been> 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| If you imagine that I have not your number, said Mr. Hackett, you are mistaken. I 000:001;01[' ]| may be$1$ infirm, but my sight is excellent. Mr. Hackett sat down on the seat, still 000:001;01[' ]| warm, from the loving. Good evening, and thank you, said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| It was a old seat, low and worn. Mr. Hackett's nape rested against the solitary 000:001;01[' ]| backboard, beneath it unimpeded his hunch protruded, his feet just touched the 000:001;01[' ]| ground. At the ends of the long outspread arms the hands held the armrests, the stick 000:001;01[' ]| hooked round his neck hung between his knees. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| So from the shadows he watched the last trains pass, oh not the last, but almost, and 000:001;01[' ]| in the sky, and in the still canal, the long greens and yellows of the summer evening. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But now a gentleman passing, with a lady on his arm, espied him. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Oh, my dear, he said, there is Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Hackett, said the lady. What Hackett? Where? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| You know Hackett, said the gentleman. You must have$1$ often heard me speak of 000:001;01[' ]| Hackett. Hunchy Hackett. On the seat. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The lady looked attentively at Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| So that is Hackett, she said. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Yes, said the gentleman. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Poor fellow, she said. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Oh, said the gentleman, let us now stop, do you mind, and wish him the time of 000:001;01[' ]| evening. He advanced, exclaiming, My dear fellow, my dear fellow, how are you? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Hackett raised his eyes, from the dying day. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| My wife, cried the gentleman. Meet my wife. My wife. Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I have heard so much about you, said the lady, and now I meet you, at last. Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Hackett! 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I do not rise, not having the force, said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Why I should think not indeed, said the lady. She stooped towards him, quivering 000:001;01[' ]| with solicitude. I should hope not indeed, she said. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Hackett thought she was going to$9$ pat him on the head, or at least stroke his 000:001;01[' ]| hunch. He called in his arms and they sat down beside him, the lady on the one side, 000:001;01[' ]| and the gentleman on the other. As a result of this, Mr. Hackett found himself 000:001;01[' ]| between them. His head reached to$4$ the armpits. Their hands met above the hunch, on 000:001;01[' ]| the backboard. They drooped with tenderness towards him. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| You remember Grehan? said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The poisoner, said the gentleman. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The solicitor, said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I knew him slightly, said the gentleman. Six years, was it not. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Seven, said Mr. Hackett. Six are rarely given. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| He deserved ten, in my opinion, said the gentleman. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Or twelve, said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| What did he do$1$? said the lady. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Slightly overstepped his prerogatives, said the gentleman. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I received a letter from him this morning, said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Oh, said the gentleman, I did not know they might communicate with the outer 000:001;01[' ]| world. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| He is a solicitor, said Mr. Hackett. He added, I am scarcely the outer world. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| What rubbish, said the gentleman. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| What nonsense, said the lady. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The letter contained a enclosure, said Mr. Hackett, of which, knowing your love of 000:001;01[' ]| literature, I would favour you with the primeur, if it were not too dark to$9$ see. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The primeur, said the lady. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| That is what I said, said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I have a petrol-lighter, said the gentleman. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Hackett drew a paper from his pocket and the gentleman lit his petrol-lighter. 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Hackett read: 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| TO$4$ NELLY 000:001;01[' ]| To$4$ Nelly, said the lady. To$4$ Nelly, said Mr. Hackett. There was a silence. Shall I 000:001;01[' ]| continue? said Mr. Hackett. My mother's name was Nelly, said the lady. The name is 000:001;01[' ]| not uncommon, said Mr. Hackett, even I have known several Nellies. Read on, my 000:001;01[' ]| dear fellow, said the gentleman. Mr. Hackett read: 000:001;01[' ]| TO$4$ NELLY 000:001;01[' ]| To$4$ thee, sweet Nell, when shadows fall 000:001;01[' ]| Jug-jug! Jug-jug! I here in thrall 000:001;01[' ]| My wanton thoughts do turn. 000:001;01[' ]| Walks she out yet with Byrne? 000:001;01[' ]| Moves Hyde his hand amid her$2$ skirts 000:001;01[' ]| As erst? I ask, and Echo answers: Certes. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Tis well! Tis well! Far, far be it 000:001;01[' ]| Pu-we! Pu-we! 000:001;01[' ]| From me, my tit, 000:001;01[' ]| Such innocent joys to$9$ chide. 000:001;01[' ]| Burn, burn with Byrne, from Hyde 000:001;01[' ]| Hide naught ~~ hide naught save what 000:001;01[' ]| Is Greh'n's. IT hide from Hyde, with Byrne burn not. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| It! Peerless gage of maidenhood! 000:001;01[' ]| Cuckoo! Cuckoo! 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Would that I could 000:001;01[' ]| Be$1$ certain in my mind 000:001;01[' ]| Upon discharge to$9$ find 000:001;01[' ]| Neath Cupid's flow'r, hey nonny 0! 000:001;01[' ]| Diana's blushing bud in statu quo. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Then darkly kindle durst my soul 000:001;01[' ]| Tuwhit! Tuwhoo! 000:001;01[' ]| As on it stole 000:001;01[' ]| The murmur to$9$ become 000:001;01[' ]| Epithalamium, 000:001;01[' ]| And Hymen o'er my senses shed 000:001;01[' ]| The dewy forejoys of the marriage-bed. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Enough ~~ 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Ample, said the lady. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| A woman in a shawl passed before them. Her$2$ belly could dimly be$1$ seen, sticking out, 000:001;01[' ]| like a balloon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I was never like that, my dear, said the lady, was I? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Not to$4$ my knowledge, my love, said the gentleman. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| You remember the night that Larry was born, said the lady. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I do, said the gentleman. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| How old is Larry now? said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| How old is Larry, my dear? said the gentleman. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| How old is Larry, said the lady. Larry will be$1$ forty years old next March, D.V. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| That is the kind of thing Dee always vees, said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I would not go as far as that, said the gentleman. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Would you care to$9$ hear, Mr. Hackett, said the lady, about the night that Larry was born? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Oh do tell him, my dear, said the gentleman. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Well, said the lady, that morning at breakfast Goff turns 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| to$4$ me and he says, Tetty, he says, Tetty, my pet, I should very much like to$9$ invite 000:001;01[' ]| Thompson, Cream and Colquhoun to$9$ help us eat the duck, if I felt sure you felt up to$4$ it. 000:001;01[' ]| Why, my dear, says I, I never felt fitter in my life. Those were my words, were they not? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I believe they were, said Goff. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Well, said Tetty, when Thompson comes into the diningroom, followed by Cream and 000:001;01[' ]| Berry (Coulquhoun I remember had a previous engagement), I was already seated at the 000:001;01[' ]| table. There was nothing strange in that, seeing I was the only lady present. You did not 000:001;01[' ]| find that strange, did you, my love? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Certainly not, said Goff, most natural. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The first mouthful of duck had barely passed my lips, said Tetty, when Larry leaped in 000:001;01[' ]| my wom. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Your what? said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| My wom, said Tetty. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| You know, said Goff, her$2$ woom. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| How embarrassing for you, said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I continued to$9$ eat, drink and make light conversation, said Tetty, and Larry to$9$ leap, like 000:001;01[' ]| a salmon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| What a experience for you, said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| There were moments, I assure you, when I thought he would tumble out on the floor, at 000:001;01[' ]| my feet. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Merciful heavens, you felt him slipping, said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| No trace of this dollar appeared on my face, said Tetty. Did it, my dear? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Not a trace, said Goff. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Nor did my sense of humour desert me. What rolypoly, said Mr. Berry, I remember, 000:001;01[' ]| turning to$4$ me with a smile, what delicious rolypoly, it melts in the mouth. Not only in 000:001;01[' ]| the mouth, sir, I replied, without a instant's hesitation, not only in the mouth, my dear 000:001;01[' ]| sir. Not too osy with the sweet, I thought. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Not too what? said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Osy, said Goff. You know, not too osy. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| With the coffee and liquors, labour was in full swing, Mr. Hackett, I give you my 000:001;01[' ]| solemn word, under the groaning board. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Swing is the word, said Goff. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| You knew she was pregnant, said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Why er, said Goff, you see er, I er, we er ~~ 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Tetty's hand fell heartily on Mr. Hackett's thigh. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| He thought I was coy, she cried. Hahahaha. Haha. Ha. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Haha, said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I was greatly worried I admit, said Goff. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Finally they retired, did you not? said Tetty. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| We did indeed, said Goff, we retired to$4$ the billiard-room, for a game of slosh. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I went up those stairs, Mr. Hackett, said Tetty, on my hands and knees, wringing the 000:001;01[' ]| carpet-rods as though they were made of raffia. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| You were in such anguish, said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Three minutes later I was a mother. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Unassisted, said Goff. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I did everything with my own hands, said Tetty, everything. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| She severed the cord with her$2$ teeth, said Goff, not having a scissors to$4$ her$2$ hand. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| What do you think of that? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I would have$1$ snapped it across my knee, if necessary, said Tetty. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| That is a thing I often wondered, said Mr. Hackett what it feels like to$9$ have$1$ the 000:001;01[' ]| string cut. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| For the mother or the child? said Goff. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| For the mother, said Mr. Hackett. I was not found under a cabbage, I believe. 000:001;01[' ]| For the mother, said Tetty, the feeling is one of relief, of great relief, as when the 000:001;01[' ]| guests depart. All my subsequent 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| strings were severed by Professor Cooper, but the feeling was always the same, one 000:001;01[' ]| of riddance. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Then you dressed and came downstairs, said Mr. Hackett, leading the infant by the 000:001;01[' ]| hand. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| We heard the cries, said Goff. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Judge of their surprise, said Tetty. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Cream's potting had been extraordinary, extraordinary, I remember, said Goff. I 000:001;01[' ]| never saw anything like it. We were watching breathless, as he set himself for a long 000:001;01[' ]| thin jenny, with the black of all balls. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| What temerity, said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| A quite impossible stroke, in my opinion, said Goff. He drew back his queue to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| strike, when the wail was heard. He permitted himself a expression that I shall not 000:001;01[' ]| repeat. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Poor little Larry, said Tetty, as though it were his fault. Tell me no more, said Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Hackett, it is useless. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| These north-western skies are really extraordinary, said Goff, are they not. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| So voluptuous, said Tetty. You think it is all over and then pop! up they flare, with 000:001;01[' ]| augmented radiance. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Yes, said Mr. Hackett, there are protuberances and protuberances. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Poor Mr. Hackett, said Tetty, poor dear Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Yes, said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Nothing to$4$ the Glencullen Hacketts, I suppose, said Tetty. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| It was there I fell off the ladder, said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| What age were you then? said Tetty. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| One, said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| And where was your dear mother? said Tetty. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| She was out somewhere, said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| And your papa? said Tetty. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Papa was out breaking stones on Prince William's Seat, said Mr. Hackett 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| You were all alone, said Tetty. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| There was the goat, I am told, said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| He turned away from the ladder fallen in the dark yard and his gaze moved down over 000:001;01[' ]| the fields and the low tottering walls, across the stream and up the farther slope to$4$ the 000:001;01[' ]| bluff already in shadow, and the summer sky. He slipped down with the little sunlit 000:001;01[' ]| fields, he toiled up with the foothills to$4$ the dark bluff, and he heard the distant clink of 000:001;01[' ]| the hammers. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| She left you all alone in the yard, said Tetty, with the goat. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| It was a beautiful summer's day, said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| And what possessed her$6$ to$9$ slip off like that? said Goff. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I never asked her$6$, said Mr. Hackett. The pub, or the chapel, or both. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Poor woman, God forgive her$6$, said Tetty. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Faith I would not put it past him, said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Night is now falling fast, said Goff, soon it will be$1$ quite dark. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Then we shall all go home, said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| On the Par side of the street, opposite to$4$ where they sat, a tram stopped. It remained 000:001;01[' ]| stationary for some little time, and they heard the voice of the conductor, raised in 000:001;01[' ]| anger. Then it moved on, disclosing, on the pavement, motionless, a solitary figure, lit 000:001;01[' ]| less and less by the receding lights, until it was scarcely to$9$ be$1$ distinguished from the dim 000:001;01[' ]| wall behind it. Tetty was not sure whether it was a man or a woman. Mr. Hackett was 000:001;01[' ]| not sure that it was not a parcel, a carpet for example, or a roll of tarpaulin, wrapped up 000:001;01[' ]| in dark paper and tied about the middle with a cord. Goff rose, without a word, and 000:001;01[' ]| rapidly crossed the street. Tetty and Mr. Hackett could see his eager gestures, for his 000:001;01[' ]| coat was light in colour, and hear his voice, raised in remonstrance. But Watt moved no 000:001;01[' ]| more, as far as they could see, than if 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| he had been of stone, and if he spoke he spoke so low that they did not hear him. 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Hackett did not know when he had been more intrigued, nay, he did not know 000:001;01[' ]| when he had been so intrigued. He did not know either what it was that so intrigued 000:001;01[' ]| him. What is it that so intrigues me, he said, whom even the extraordinary, even the 000:001;01[' ]| supernatural, intrigue so seldom, and so little. Here there is nothing in the least 000:001;01[' ]| unusual, that I can see, and yet I burn with curiosity, and with wonder. The sensation 000:001;01[' ]| is not disagreeable, I must say$1$, and yet I do not think I could bear it for more than 000:001;01[' ]| twenty minutes, or half a hour. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The lady also was a interested spectator. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Goff rejoined them, very cross. I recognized him at once, he said. He made use, with 000:001;01[' ]| reference to$4$ Watt, of a expression that we shall not record. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| For the past seven years, he said, he owes me five shillings, that is to$9$ say$1$, six and 000:001;01[' ]| ninepence. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| He does not move, said Tetty. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| He refuses to$9$ pay, said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| He does not refuse to$9$ pay, said Goff. He offers me four shillings and fourpence. It is 000:001;01[' ]| all the money he has in the world. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Then he would owe you only two and threepence, said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I can not leave him without a penny in his pocket, said Goff. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Why not? said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| He is setting out on a journey, said Goff. If I accepted his offer he would be$1$ obliged 000:001;01[' ]| to$9$ turn back. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| That might be$1$ the best thing for him, said Mr. Hackett. Perhaps some day, when we 000:001;01[' ]| are all dead, looking back he will say$1$, If only Mr. Nesbit had accepted ~~ 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Nixon, my name is, said Goff. Nixon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| If only Mr. Nixon had accepted my four and fourpence that night, and I had turned 000:001;01[' ]| back, instead of going on. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| All lies, I suppose, in any case, said Mrs. Nixon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| No no, said Mr. Nixon, he is a most truthful man, really incapable, I believe, of 000:001;01[' ]| telling a untruth. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| You might at least have$1$ accepted a shilling, said Mr. Hackett, or one and six. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| There he is now, on the bridge, said Mrs. Nixon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| He stood with his back towards them, from the waist up faintly outlined against the 000:001;01[' ]| last wisps of day. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| You have not told us his name, said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt, said Mr. Nixon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I never heard you mention him, said Mrs. Nixon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Strange, said Mr. Nixon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Known him long? said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I can not really say$1$ I know him, said Mr. Nixon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Like a sewer-pipe, said Mrs. Nixon. Where are his arms? Since when can not you really 000:001;01[' ]| say$1$ you know him? said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| My dear fellow, said Mr. Nixon. why this sudden interest? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Do not answer if you prefer not to$9$, said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| It is difficult to$9$ answer, said Mr. Nixon. I seem to$9$ have$1$ known him all my life, but 000:001;01[' ]| there must have$1$ been a period when I did not. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| How is that? said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| He is considerably younger than I, said Mr. Nixon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| And you never mention him, said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Why, said Mr. Nixon, I may very well have$1$ mentioned him, there is really no reason 000:001;01[' ]| why I should not. It is true.... He paused. He does not invite mention, he said, there 000:001;01[' ]| are people like that. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Not like me, said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| He is gone, said Mrs. Nixon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Is that so, said Mr. Nixon. The curious thing is, my dear 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| fellow, I tell you quite frankly, that when I see him, or think of him, I think of you, 000:001;01[' ]| and that when I see you, or think of you, I think of him. I have no idea why this is so. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Well well, said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| He is on his way now to$4$ the station, said Mr. Nixon. Why I wonder did he get down 000:001;01[' ]| here. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| It is the end of the penny fare, said Mrs. Nixon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| That depends where he got on, said Mr. Nixon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| He can scarcely have$1$ got on at a point remoter than the terminus, said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But does the penny fare end here, said Mr. Nixon, at a merely facultative stop? 000:001;01[' ]| Surely it ends rather at the station. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I think you are right, said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Then why did he get off here? said Mr. Nixon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Perhaps he felt like a little fresh air, said Mr. Hackett, before being pent up in the 000:001;01[' ]| train. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Weighed down as he is, said Mr. Nixon. Come come. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Perhaps he mistook the stop, said Mrs. Nixon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But this is not a stop, said Mr. Nixon, in the ordinary sense of the word. Here the 000:001;01[' ]| tram stops only by request. And since nobody else got off, and since nobody got on, 000:001;01[' ]| the request must have$1$ come from Watt. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| A silence followed these words. Then Mrs. Nixon said: 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I do not follow you, Goff. Why should he not have$1$ requested the tram to$9$ stop, if he 000:001;01[' ]| wished to$9$ do$1$ so? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| There is no reason, my dear; said Mr. Nixon, no earthly reason, why he should not 000:001;01[' ]| have$1$ requested the tram to$9$ stop, as he undoubtedly did. But the fact of his having 000:001;01[' ]| requested the tram to$9$ stop proves that he did not mistake the stop, as you suggest. For 000:001;01[' ]| if he had mistaken the stop, and thought himself already at the railway station, he 000:001;01[' ]| would not have$1$ requested the tram to$9$ stop. For the tram always stops at the station. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Perhaps he is off his head, said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| He is a little strange at times, said Mr. Nixon, but he is a experienced traveller. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Perhaps, said Mr. Hackett, finding that he had a little time on his hands, he decided to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| while it away through the sweet cool evening air, rather than in the nasty railway station. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But he will miss his train, said Mr. Nixon, he will miss the last train out, if he does not 000:001;01[' ]| run. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Perhaps he wished to$9$ annoy the conductor, said Mrs. Nixon, or the driver. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But a milder, more inoffensive creature does not exist, said Mr. Nixon. He would 000:001;01[' ]| literally turn the other cheek, I honestly believe, if he had the energy. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Perhaps, said Mr. Hackett, he suddenly made up his mind not to$9$ leave town after all. 000:001;01[' ]| Between the terminus and here he had time to$9$ reconsider the matter. Then, having made 000:001;01[' ]| up his mind that it is better after all not to$9$ leave town just now, he stops the tram and 000:001;01[' ]| gets down, for it is useless to$9$ go on. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But he went on, said Mr. Nixon, he did not go back the way he came, but went on, 000:001;01[' ]| towards the station. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Perhaps he is going home by a roundabout way, said Mrs. Nixon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Where does he live? said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| He has no fixed address that I know of, said Mr. Nixon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Then his going on towards the station proves nothing, said Mrs. Nixon. He may be$1$ fast 000:001;01[' ]| asleep in Quin's hotel at the present moment. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| With four and four in his pocket, said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Or on a bench somewhere, said Mrs. Nixon. Or in the park. Or on the football field. Or 000:001;01[' ]| on the cricket field. Or on the bowling green. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Or on the tennis courts, said Mr. Nixon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I think not, said Mr. Hackett. He gets off the tram, is 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| determined not to$9$ leave town after all. But a little further reflexion shows him the 000:001;01[' ]| folly of such a course. This would explain his attitude after the tram had moved on, 000:001;01[' ]| and left him. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The folly of what course? said Mr. Nixon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Of turning back so soon, said Mr. Hackett, before he was well started on his way. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Did you see his accoutrement? said Mrs. Nixon. What had he on his head? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| His hat, said Mr. Nixon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The thought of leaving town was most painful to$4$ him, said Mr. Hackett, but the 000:001;01[' ]| thought of not doing so no less so. So he sets off for the station, half hoping he may 000:001;01[' ]| miss his train. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| You may be$1$ right, said Mr. Nixon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Too fearful to$9$ assume himself the onus of a decision, said Mr. Hackett, he refers it to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| the frigid machinery of a timespace relation. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Very ingenious, said Mr. Nixon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| And what do you suppose frightens him all of a sudden? said Mrs. Nixon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| It can hardly be$1$ the journey itself, said Mr. Hackett, since you tell me he is a 000:001;01[' ]| experienced traveller. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| A silence followed these words. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Now that I have made that clear, said Mr. Hackett, you might describe your friend a 000:001;01[' ]| little more fully. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I really know nothing, said Mr. Nixon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But you must know something, said Mr. Hackett. One does not part with five 000:001;01[' ]| shillings to$4$ a shadow. Nationality, family, birthplace, confession, occupation, means 000:001;01[' ]| of existence, distinctive signs, you can not be$1$ in ignorance of all this. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Utter ignorance, said Mr. Nixon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| He is not a native of the rocks, said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I tell you nothing is known, cried Mr. Nixon. Nothing. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| A silence followed these angry words, by Mr. Hackett resented by Mr. Nixon 000:001;01[' ]| repented. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| He has a huge big red nose, said Mr. Nixon grudgingly. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Hackett pondered this. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| You are not asleep, my dear, said Mr. Nixon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I grow drowsy, said Mrs. Nixon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Here is a man you seem to$9$ have$1$ known all your life, said Mr. Hackett, who owes you 000:001;01[' ]| five shillings for the past seven years, and all you can tell me is that he has a huge 000:001;01[' ]| big red nose and no fixed address. He paused. He added, And that he is a 000:001;01[' ]| experienced traveller. He paused. He added, And that he is considerably younger 000:001;01[' ]| than you, a common condition I must say$1$. He paused. He added, And that he is 000:001;01[' ]| truthful, gentle and sometimes a little strange. He glared up angrily at Mr. Nixon's 000:001;01[' ]| face. But Mr. Nixon did not see this angry glare, for he was looking at something 000:001;01[' ]| quite different. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I think it is time for us to$9$ be$1$ getting along, he said, is it not, my dear? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| In a instant the last flowers will be$1$ engulfed, said Mrs. Nixon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Nixon rose. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Here is a man you have known as long as you can remember, said Mr. Hackett, to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| whom you lent five shillings seven years ago, whom you immediately recognize, at a 000:001;01[' ]| considerable distance, in the dark. You say you know nothing of his antecedents. I 000:001;01[' ]| am obliged to$9$ believe you. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Nothing obliges you, said Mr. Nixon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I choose to$9$ believe you, said Mr. Hackett. And that you are unable to$9$ tell what you 000:001;01[' ]| do not know I am willing to$9$ believe also. It is a common failing. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Tetty, said Mr. Nixon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But certain things you must know. said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| For example, said Mr. Nixon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| How you met him, said Mr. Hackett. In what circumstances he touched you. Where 000:001;01[' ]| he is to$9$ be$1$ seen. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| What does it matter who he is? said Mrs. Nixon. She rose. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Take my arm, my dear, said Mr. Nixon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Or what he does, said Mrs. Nixon. Or how he lives. Or where he comes from. Or 000:001;01[' ]| where he is going to. Or what he looks like. What can it possibly matter, to$4$ us? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I ask myself the same question, said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| How I met him, said Mr. Nixon. I really do not remember any more than I remember 000:001;01[' ]| meeting my father. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Good God, said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| In what circumstances he touched me, said Mr. Nixon. I met him one day in the 000:001;01[' ]| street. One of his feet was bare. I forget which. He drew me to$4$ one side and said he 000:001;01[' ]| was in need of five shillings to$9$ buy himself a boot. I could not refuse him. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But one does not buy a boot, exclaimed Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Perhaps he knew where he could have$1$ it made to$4$ measure, said Mrs. Nixon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I know nothing of that, said Mr. Nixon. As to$4$ where he is to$9$ be$1$ seen, he is to$9$ be$1$ seen 000:001;01[' ]| in the streets, walking about. But one does not see him often. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| He is a university man, of course, said Mrs. Nixon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I should think it highly probable, said Mr. Nixon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. and Mrs. Nixon moved off, arm in arm. But they had not gone far when they 000:001;01[' ]| returned. Mr. Nixon stooped and murmured in Mr. Hackett's ear, Mr. Nixon who did 000:001;01[' ]| not like the sun to$9$ go down on the least hint of a estrangement. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Drink, said Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Oh my goodness no, said Mr. Nixon, he drinks nothing but milk. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Milk, exclaimed Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Even water he will not touch, said Mr. Nixon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Well, said Mr. Hackett wearily, I am obliged to$4$ you, I suppose. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. and Mrs. Nixon moved off, arm in arm. But they had not gone far when they 000:001;01[' ]| heard a cry. They stopped, and listened. It was Mr. Hackett, crying, in the night, 000:001;01[' ]| Pleased to$9$ have$1$ met you, Mrs. Nisbet. Mrs. Nixon, tightening her$2$ hold on Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Nixon's arm, cried back, The pleasure is mine, Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| What? cried Mr. Hackett. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| She says the pleasure is hers, cried Mr. Nixon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Hackett resumed his holds on the armrests. Pulling himself forward, and letting 000:001;01[' ]| himself fall back, several times in rapid succession, he scratched the crest of his 000:001;01[' ]| hunch against the backboard. He looked towards the horizon that he had come out to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| see, of which he had seen so little. Now it was quite dark. Yes, now the western sky 000:001;01[' ]| was as the eastern, which was as the southern, which was as the northern. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt bumped into a porter wheeling a milkcan. Watt fell and his hat and bags were 000:001;01[' ]| scattered. The porter did not fall, but he let go his can, which fell back with a thump 000:001;01[' ]| on its tilted rim, rocked rattling on its base and finally came to$4$ a stand. This was a 000:001;01[' ]| happy chance, for had it fallen on its side, full as it perhaps was of milk, then who 000:001;01[' ]| knows the milk might have$1$ run out, all over the platform, and even on the rails, 000:001;01[' ]| beneath the train, and been lost. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt picked himself up, little the worse for his fall, as usual. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The devil raise a hump on you, said the porter. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| He was a handsome if dirty fellow. It is so difficult for railway porters to$9$ keep sweet 000:001;01[' ]| and clean, with the work they have to$9$ do$1$. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Can not you look where you are going? he said. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt did not cry out on this extravagant suggestion, let 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| fall, it is only fair to$9$ say$1$, in the heat of anger. He stooped to$9$ pick up his hat and bags, 000:001;01[' ]| but straightened himself up without having done so. He did not feel at liberty to$9$ see to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| this matter until the porter had finished abusing him. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mute on top of blind, said the porter. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt smiled and clasping his hands raised them to$4$ his breastbone and held them there. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt had watched people smile and thought he understood how it was done. And it was 000:001;01[' ]| true that Watt's smile, when he smiled, resembled more a smile than a sneer, for 000:001;01[' ]| example, or a yawn. But there was something wanting to$4$ Watt's smile, some little thing 000:001;01[' ]| was lacking, and people who saw it for the first time, and most people who saw it saw it 000:001;01[' ]| for the first time, were sometimes in doubt as to$4$ what expression exactly was intended. 000:001;01[' ]| To$4$ many it seemed a simple sucking of the teeth. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt used this smile sparingly. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Its effect on the porter was to$9$ suggest to$4$ him words infinitely more disobliging than any 000:001;01[' ]| he had already employed. But they were never spoken, by him, to$4$ Watt, for suddenly the 000:001;01[' ]| porter seized his can and wheeled it rapidly away. The stationmaster, a Mr. Lowry, was 000:001;01[' ]| approaching. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| This incident was of too common a kind to$9$ excite any great interest among those 000:001;01[' ]| present. But there were connoisseurs on whom the exceptional quality of Watt was not 000:001;01[' ]| lost, of his entry, his fall, his rise and subsequent attitudes. These were content. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Among these was the newsagent. He had seen all from his warm nest of books and 000:001;01[' ]| periodicals. But now that the best was past he came out on the platform, with the 000:001;01[' ]| intention of closing his stall, for the night. He therefore lowered and locked the 000:001;01[' ]| corrugated apron. He seemed a man of more than usual acerbity, and to$9$ suffer from 000:001;01[' ]| unremitting mental, moral and perhaps even physical pain. One 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| noticed his cap, perhaps because of the snow-white forehead and damp black curly hair 000:001;01[' ]| on which it sat. The eye came always in the end to$4$ the scowling mouth and from there 000:001;01[' ]| on up to$4$ the rest. His moustache, handsome in itself, was for obscure reasons 000:001;01[' ]| unimportant. But one thought of him as the man who, among other things, never left off 000:001;01[' ]| his cap, a plain blue cloth cap, with a peak and knob. For he never left off his 000:001;01[' ]| bicycle-clips either. These were of a kind that caused his trouser-ends to$9$ stick out wide, 000:001;01[' ]| on either side. He was short and limped dreadfully. When he got started he moved 000:001;01[' ]| rapidly, in a series of aborted genuflexions. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| He picked up Watt's hat and brought it to$4$ him, saying, Your hat, sir, I think. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt looked at the hat. Was it possible that this was his hat? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| He put it on his head. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Now at the end of the platform the newsagent came out of a door, wheeling his bicycle. 000:001;01[' ]| He would carry it down the winding stone stairs and then ride home. There he would 000:001;01[' ]| play a game of chess, between masters, out of Mr. Staunton's handbook. The next 000:001;01[' ]| morning he would carry his bicycle up the stairs again. It was heavy, being a very good 000:001;01[' ]| bicycle. It would have$1$ been simpler to$9$ leave it below, but he preferred to$9$ have$1$ it near 000:001;01[' ]| him. This man's name was Evans. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt picked up his bags and got into the train. He did not choose a compartment. It 000:001;01[' ]| happened to$9$ be$1$ empty. 000:001;01[' ]| On the platform the porter continued to$9$ wheel cans, up and down. At one end of the 000:001;01[' ]| platform there was one group of cans, and at the other end there was another. The porter 000:001;01[' ]| chose with care a can in one group and wheeled it to$4$ the other. Then he chose with care 000:001;01[' ]| a can in the other and wheeled it to$4$ the one. He is sorting the cans, said Watt. Or perhaps 000:001;01[' ]| it is a punishment for disobedience, or some neglect of duty. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt sat with his back to$4$ the engine, which now, having got up steam, drew the long line 000:001;01[' ]| of carriages out of the station. Already Watt preferred to$9$ have$1$ his back to$4$ his 000:001;01[' ]| destination. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But he had not gone far when, conscious of eyes upon him, he looked up and saw a large 000:001;01[' ]| gentleman sitting in the corner diagonally opposed to$4$ his. This gentleman's feet rested 000:001;01[' ]| on the wooden seat before him, and his hands were in the pockets of his coat. The 000:001;01[' ]| compartment then was not so empty as Watt had at first supposed. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| My name is Spiro, said the gentleman. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Here then was a sensible man at last. He began with the essential and then, working on, 000:001;01[' ]| would deal with the less important matters, one after the other, in a orderly way. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt smiled. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| No offence meant, said Mr. Spiro. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt's smile was further peculiar in this, that it seldom came singly, but was followed 000:001;01[' ]| after a short time by another, less pronounced it is true. In this it resembled the fart. And 000:001;01[' ]| it even sometimes happened that a third, very weak and fleeting, was found necessary, 000:001;01[' ]| before the face could be$1$ at rest again. But this was rare. And it will be$1$ a long time now 000:001;01[' ]| before Watt smiles again, unless something very unexpected turns up, to$9$ upset him. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| My friends call me Dum, said Mr. Spiro, I am so bright and cheerful. D-U-M. Anagram 000:001;01[' ]| of mud. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Spiro had been drinking, but not more than was good for him. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I edit Crux, said Mr. Spiro, the popular catholic monthly. We do not pay our 000:001;01[' ]| contributors, but they benefit in other ways. Our advertisements are extraordinary. We 000:001;01[' ]| keep our tonsure above water. Our prize competitions are very nice. Times are hard, 000:001;01[' ]| water in every wine. Of a devout twist, they do more good than harm. For example: 000:001;01[' ]| Rearrange the 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| fifteen letters of the Holy Family to$9$ form a question and answer. Winning entry: Has 000:001;01[' ]| J. Jurms a po? Yes. Or: What do you know of the adjuration, excommunication, 000:001;01[' ]| malediction and fulminating anathematisation of the eels of Como, the hurebers of 000:001;01[' ]| Beaune, the rats of Lyon, the slugs of Ma^con, the worms of Como, the leeches of 000:001;01[' ]| Lausanne and the caterpillars of Valence? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Now the fields flew by, the hedges and the ditches, ghastly in the train's light, or 000:001;01[' ]| appeared to$9$ do$1$ so, for in reality it was the train that moved, across a land for ever 000:001;01[' ]| still. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Though we know what we know, said Mr. Spiro, we are not partisan. I personally am 000:001;01[' ]| a neo-John-Thomist, I make no bones about that. But I do not allow it to$9$ stand in the 000:001;01[' ]| way of my promiscuities. 7Podex 7non 7destra 7sed 7sinistra ~~ what pettiness. Our 000:001;01[' ]| columns are open to$4$ suckers of every persuasion and freethinkers figure in our roll of 000:001;01[' ]| honour. My own contribution to$4$ the supplementary redemption, A Spiritual Syringe 000:001;01[' ]| for the Costive in Devotion, is so elastic, and unrigid, that a Presbyterian could profit 000:001;01[' ]| by it, without discomfort. But why do I trouble you with this, you, a perfect stranger. 000:001;01[' ]| It is because tonight I must speak, to$4$ a fellow wanderer. Where do you get down, sir? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt named the place. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I beg your pardon? said Mr. Spiro. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt named the place again. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Then there is not a moment to$9$ lose, said Mr. Spiro. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| He drew a paper from his pocket and read: 000:001;01[' ]| Lourdes 000:001;01[' ]| Basses-Pyre=ne=es 000:001;01[' ]| France 000:001;01[' ]| Sir, 000:001;01[' ]| A rat, or other small animal, eats of a consecrated wafer 000:001;01[' ]| I. Does he ingest the Real Body, or does he not? 000:001;01[' ]| 2. If he does not, what has become of it? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 3. If he does, what is to$9$ be$1$ done with him? 000:001;01[' ]| Yours faithfully 000:001;01[' ]| Martin Ignatius MacKenzie 000:001;01[' ]| (Author of The Chartered Accountant's Saturday Night) 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Spiro now replied to$4$ these questions, that is to$9$ say$1$ he replied to$4$ question one and 000:001;01[' ]| he replied to$4$ question three. He did so at length, quoting from Saint Bonaventura, 000:001;01[' ]| Peter Lombard, Alexander of Hales, Sanchez, Suarez, Henno, Soto, Diana, Concina 000:001;01[' ]| and Dens, for he was a man of leisure. But Watt heard nothing of this, because of 000:001;01[' ]| other voices, singing, crying, stating, murmuring, things unintelligible, in his ear. 000:001;01[' ]| With these, if he was not familiar, he was not unfamiliar either. So he was not 000:001;01[' ]| alarmed, unduly. Now these voices, sometimes they sang only, and sometimes they 000:001;01[' ]| cried only, and sometimes they stated only, and sometimes they murmured only, and 000:001;01[' ]| sometimes they sang and cried, and sometimes they sang and stated, and sometimes 000:001;01[' ]| they sang and murmured, and sometimes they cried and stated, and sometimes they 000:001;01[' ]| cried and murmured, and sometimes they stated and murmured, and sometimes they 000:001;01[' ]| sang and cried and stated, and sometimes they sang and cried and murmured, and 000:001;01[' ]| sometimes they cried and stated and murmured, and sometimes they sang and cried 000:001;01[' ]| and stated and murmurmured, all together, at the same time, as now, to$9$ mention only 000:001;01[' ]| these four kinds of voices, for there were others. And sometimes Watt understood 000:001;01[' ]| all, and sometimes he understood much, and sometimes he understood little, and 000:001;01[' ]| sometimes he understood nothing, as now. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The racecourse now appearing, with its beautiful white railing, in the fleeing lights, 000:001;01[' ]| warned Watt that he was drawing near, and that when the train stopped next, then he 000:001;01[' ]| must leave it. He could not see the stands, the grand, the members', the people's, so 000:001;01[' ]| when empty with their white and red, for they were too far off. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| So he settled his bags under his hands and held himself in readiness to$9$ leave the train, 000:001;01[' ]| the moment it came to$4$ a standstill. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| For Watt had once been carried past this station, and on to$4$ the next, through his not 000:001;01[' ]| having prepared himself in time, to$9$ get down, when the train stopped. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| For this was a line so little frequented, especially at this hour, when the driver, the 000:001;01[' ]| stoker, the guard and the station staffs all along the line, were anhelating towards their 000:001;01[' ]| wives, after the long hours of continence, that the train would hardly draw up, when it 000:001;01[' ]| would be$1$ off again, like a bouncing ball. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Personally I would pursue him, said Mr. Spiro, if I were sure it was he, with all the 000:001;01[' ]| rigour of the canon laws. He took his legs off the seat. He put his head out of the 000:001;01[' ]| window. And pontifical decrees, he cried. A great rush of air drove him back. He was 000:001;01[' ]| alone, flying through the night. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The moon was now up. It was not far up, but it was up. It was of a unpleasant yellow 000:001;01[' ]| colour. Long past the full, it was waning, waning. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt's way of advancing due east, for example, was to$9$ turn his bust as far as possible 000:001;01[' ]| towards the north and at the same time to$9$ fling out his right leg as far as possible 000:001;01[' ]| towards the south, and then to$9$ turn his bust as far as possible towards the south and at 000:001;01[' ]| the same time to$9$ fling out his left leg as far as possible towards the north, and then again 000:001;01[' ]| to$9$ turn his bust as far as possible towards the north and to$9$ fling out his right leg as far as 000:001;01[' ]| possible towards the south, and then again to$9$ turn his bust as far as possible towards the 000:001;01[' ]| south and to$9$ fling out his left leg as far as possible towards the north, and so on, over 000:001;01[' ]| and over again, many many times, until he reached his destination, and could sit down. 000:001;01[' ]| So, standing first on one leg, and then on the other, he moved forward, a headlong 000:001;01[' ]| tardigrade, in a straight line. The 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| knees, on these occasions, did not bend. They could have$1$, but they did not. No knees 000:001;01[' ]| could better bend than Watt's, when they chose, there was nothing the matter with 000:001;01[' ]| Watt's knees, as may appear. But when out walking they did not bend, for some 000:001;01[' ]| obscure reason. Notwithstanding this, the feet fell, heel and sole together, flat upon 000:001;01[' ]| the ground, and left it, for the air's uncharted ways, with manifest repugnancy. The 000:001;01[' ]| arms were content to$9$ dangle, in perfect equipendency. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Lady McCann, coming up behind, thought she had never, on the public road, seen 000:001;01[' ]| motions so extraordinary, and few women had a more extensive experience of the 000:001;01[' ]| public road than Lady McCann. That they were not due to$4$ alcohol appeared from 000:001;01[' ]| their regularity, and dogged air. Watt's was a funambulistic stagger. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| More than the legs the head impressed Lady McCann. For the movements of the legs 000:001;01[' ]| could be$1$ accounted for, in a number of ways. And as she reflected on some of the 000:001;01[' ]| ways, in which the movements of the legs could be$1$ accounted for, she recalled the 000:001;01[' ]| old story of her$2$ girlhood days, the old story of the medical students and the 000:001;01[' ]| gentleman walking before them with stiff and open stride. Excuse me, sir, said one 000:001;01[' ]| of the students, raising his cap, when they drew abreast, my friend here says it is 000:001;01[' ]| piles, and I say it is merely the clap. We have all three then been deceived, replied 000:001;01[' ]| the gentleman, for I thought it was wind myself. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| It was therefore less the legs that puzzled Lady McCann, than the head, turning 000:001;01[' ]| stiffly at every stride, on its stiff neck, under its hard hat, through a quarter of a circle 000:001;01[' ]| at least. Where had she read that even so, from side to$4$ side, bears turn their heads, 000:001;01[' ]| when baited? In Mr. Walpole, perhaps. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Though not a rapid walker, because of old habit, perhaps, and of her$2$ feet, which 000:001;01[' ]| were old and sore, Lady 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| McCann saw all this in greater and in greater detail, with every step she took. For 000:001;01[' ]| they were moving in the same direction, Lady McCann and Watt. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Though not a timorous woman, as a rule, thanks to$4$ her$2$ traditions, catholic and 000:001;01[' ]| military, Lady McCann preferred to$9$ halt and wait, leaning on her$2$ parasol, for the 000:001;01[' ]| distance between them to$9$ increase. So, now halting, now advancing, she followed the 000:001;01[' ]| high stamping mass, at a judicious remove, until she came to$4$ her$2$ gate. Here, faithful 000:001;01[' ]| to$4$ the spirit of her$2$ cavalier ascendants, she picked up a stone and threw it, with all 000:001;01[' ]| her$2$ might, which, when she was roused, was not negligible, at Watt. And it is to$9$ be$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| supposed that God, always favourable to$4$ the McCanns of guided her$2$ hand, for 000:001;01[' ]| the stone fell on Watt's hat and struck it from his head, to$4$ the ground. This was 000:001;01[' ]| indeed a providential escape, for had the stone fallen on a ear, or on the back of the 000:001;01[' ]| neck, as it might so easily have$1$ done, as it so nearly did, why then a wound had 000:001;01[' ]| perhaps been opened, never again to$9$ close, never, never again to$9$ close, for Watt had 000:001;01[' ]| a poor healing skin, and perhaps his blood was deficient in . And he still carried, 000:001;01[' ]| after five or six years, and though he dressed it in a mirror night and morning, on his 000:001;01[' ]| right ischium a running sore of traumatic origin. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Beyond stopping, and laying down his bags, and picking up his hat, and setting it on 000:001;01[' ]| his head, and picking up his bags, and setting himself, after one or two false starts, 000:001;01[' ]| again in motion, Watt, faithful to$4$ his rule, took no more notice of this aggression 000:001;01[' ]| than if it had been a accident. This he found was the wisest attitude, to$9$ staunch, if 000:001;01[' ]| necessary, inconspicuously, with the little red sudarium that he always carried in his 000:001;01[' ]| pocket, the flow of blood, to$9$ pick up what had fallen, and to$9$ continue, as soon as 000:001;01[' ]| possible, on his way, or in his station, like a victim of mere mischance. But he 000:001;01[' ]| deserved no credit for this. For it was a attitude become, 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| with frequent repetition, so part of his being, that there was no more room in his 000:001;01[' ]| mind for resentment at a spit in the eye, to$9$ take a simple example, than if his braces 000:001;01[' ]| had burst, or a bomb fallen on his bum. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But he had not continued very far when, feeling weak, he left the crown of the road 000:001;01[' ]| and sat down on the path, which was high, and edged with thick neglected grass. He 000:001;01[' ]| knew, as he did so, that it would not be$1$ easy to$9$ get up again, as he must, and move on 000:001;01[' ]| again, as he must. But the feeling of weakness, which he had been expecting for 000:001;01[' ]| some time, was such, that he yielded to$4$ it, and settled himself on the edge of the 000:001;01[' ]| path, with his hat pushed back, and his bags beside him, and his knees drawn up, and 000:001;01[' ]| his arms on his knees, and his head on his arms. The parts of the body are really very 000:001;01[' ]| friendly at such times, towards one another. But this was a position that could not 000:001;01[' ]| content him long, in the fresh night air, and soon he stretched himself out, so that one 000:001;01[' ]| half of him was in the road, and the other on the path. Under the neck and under the 000:001;01[' ]| distant palms he felt the cool damp grasses of the ditch's edge. And so he rested for a 000:001;01[' ]| little time, listening to$4$ the little nightsounds in the hedge behind him, in the hedge 000:001;01[' ]| outside him, hearing them with pleasure, and other distant nightsounds too, such as 000:001;01[' ]| dogs make, on bright nights, at the ends of their chains, and bats, with their little 000:001;01[' ]| wings, and the heavy daybirds changing to$4$ a more comfortable position, and the 000:001;01[' ]| leaves that are never still, until they lie rotting in a wintry heap, and the breath that is 000:001;01[' ]| never quiet. But this was a position that Watt, after a short time, found himself 000:001;01[' ]| unable to$9$ sustain, and one of the reasons for that was perhaps this, that he felt the 000:001;01[' ]| moon pouring its now whitening rays upon him, as though he were not there. For if 000:001;01[' ]| there were two things that Watt disliked, one was the moon, and the other was the 000:001;01[' ]| sun. So, settling his hat firmly on his head, and reaching forward for 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| his bags, he rolled himself over into the ditch, and lay there, on his face, half buried 000:001;01[' ]| in the wild long grass, the foxgloves, the hyssop, the pretty nettles, the high pounting 000:001;01[' ]| hemlock, and other ditch weeds and flowers. And it was to$4$ him lying thus that there 000:001;01[' ]| came, with great distinctness, from afar, from without, yes, really it seemed from 000:001;01[' ]| without, the voices, indifferent in quality, of a mixed choir. <1> 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| SOP. Fifty two point two eight five seven one four 000:001;01[' ]| ALT. Fifty two two two fifty two point 000:001;01[' ]| TEN. Fiffee fiffee fiffee two tootee tootee tootee tootee 000:001;01[' ]| BAS. Hem! fi ~~ ~~ f 000:001;01[' ]| SOP. two eight five seven one four two greatgran 000:001;01[' ]| ALT. two eight five seven one four two eight 000:001;01[' ]| TEN. two tootee tootee tootee pointee two eight 000:001;01[' ]| BAS. Christ! fi ~~ ~~ f phew! ty 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| SOP. ma ma grew bow do you 000:001;01[' ]| ALT. five seven one four two gran ma Ma 000:001;01[' ]| TEN. fivee sevenee onee fouree two eight fivee sevenee onee fouree 000:001;01[' ]| BAS. two point two eight five seven one four 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| SOP. do blooming thanks and you drooping 000:001;01[' ]| ALT. grew how do you do$1$ you do$1$ blooming 000:001;01[' ]| TEN. two ma ma Ma grew how 000:001;01[' ]| BAS. two eight five seven one four two Mise oh 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| <1 What, it may be$1$ enquired, was the music of this threne? What at> 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| SOP. thanks and you withered thanks and you for 000:001;01[' ]| ALT. thanks and you drooping thanks and you withered 000:001;01[' ]| TEN. doeedoee doeedoee do blooming thanks and you drooping 000:001;01[' ]| BAS. Miss Ma grew how do you do$1$ blooming 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| SOP. gotten thanks and you thanks for gotten too greatgran 000:001;01[' ]| ALT. thanks and you thanks withered too granma 000:001;01[' ]| TEN. thanks and you thanks drooping too mamamama 000:001;01[' ]| BAS. thanks and you thanks blooming too Miss, oh 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| SOP. rna Ma grew 000:001;01[' ]| ALT. ma Ma grew and the 000:001;01[' ]| TEN. mamamama Mama grew ~~ and the sa 000:001;01[' ]| BAS. Miss Ma grew and the sa 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| SOP. and the same to$4$ you 000:001;01[' ]| ALT. sa ~~ me to$4$ you 000:001;01[' ]| TEN. ~~ me to$4$ you 000:001;01[' ]| BAS. ~~ me Jesus! to$4$ you 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| This verse was followed by a second: 000:001;01[' ]| Fifty-one Point one 000:001;01[' ]| four two eight five seven one 000:001;01[' ]| four two eight five seven one 000:001;01[' ]| oh a bun a big fat bun 000:001;01[' ]| a big fat yellow bun 000:001;01[' ]| for Mr Man and a bun 000:001;01[' ]| for Mrs Man and a bun 000:001;01[' ]| for Master Man and a bun 000:001;01[' ]| for Miss Man and a bun 000:001;01[' ]| a big fat bun 000:001;01[' ]| for everyone 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| four two eight five seven one 000:001;01[' ]| four two eight five seven one 000:001;01[' ]| till all the buns are done 000:001;01[' ]| and everyone is gone 000:001;01[' ]| home to$4$ oblivion. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The singing then ended. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Of these two verses Watt thought he preferred the former. Bun is such a sad word, is 000:001;01[' ]| it not? And man is not much better, is it? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But by this time Watt was tired of the ditch, which he had been thinking of leaving, 000:001;01[' ]| when the voices detained him. And one of the reasons why he was tired of the ditch 000:001;01[' ]| was perhaps this, that the earth, whose contours and peculiar smell the vegetation at 000:001;01[' ]| first had masked, now he felt it, and smelt it, the bare hard dark stinking earth. And if 000:001;01[' ]| there were two things that Watt loathed, one was the earth, and the other was the sky. 000:001;01[' ]| So he crawled out of the ditch, not forgetting his bags, and resumed his journey, with 000:001;01[' ]| less difficulty than he had feared, at the point where it had been interrupted, by the 000:001;01[' ]| feeling of weakness. This feeling of weakness Watt had left, together with his 000:001;01[' ]| evening meal of goat's milk and insufficiently cooked cod, in the ditch, and it was 000:001;01[' ]| with confidence that he now advanced, in the middle of the road, with confidence 000:001;01[' ]| and with awe also, for the chimneys of Mr. Knott's house were visible at last, in the 000:001;01[' ]| light, of the moon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The house was in darkness. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Finding the front door locked, Watt went to$4$ the back door. He could not very well 000:001;01[' ]| ring, or knock, for the house was in darkness. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Finding the back door locked also, Watt returned to$4$ the front door. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Finding the front door locked still, Watt returned to$4$ the back door. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Finding the back door now open, oh not open wide, but on the latch, as the saying is, 000:001;01[' ]| Watt was able to$9$ enter the house. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt was surprised to$9$ find the back door, so lately locked, now open. Two 000:001;01[' ]| explanations of this occurred to$4$ him. The first was this, that his science of the locked 000:001;01[' ]| door, so seldom at fault, had been so on this occasion, and that the back door, when 000:001;01[' ]| he had found it locked, had not been locked, but open. And the second was this, that 000:001;01[' ]| the back door, when he had found it locked, had in effect been locked, but had 000:001;01[' ]| subsequently been opened, from within, or without, by some person, while he Watt 000:001;01[' ]| had been employed in going, to$8$ and fro, from the back door to$4$ the front door, and 000:001;01[' ]| from the front door to$4$ the back door. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Of these two explanations Watt thought he preferred the latter, as being the more 000:001;01[' ]| beautiful. For if someone had opened the back door, from within, or without, would 000:001;01[' ]| not he Watt have$1$ seen a light, or heard a sound? Or had the door been unlocked, 000:001;01[' ]| from within, in the dark, by some person perfectly familiar with the premises, and 000:001;01[' ]| wearing carpet slippers, or in his stockinged feet? Or, from without, by some person 000:001;01[' ]| so skilful on his legs, that his footfalls made no sound? Or had a sound been made, a 000:001;01[' ]| light shown, and Watt not heard the one nor seen the other? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The result of this was that Watt never knew how he got into Mr. Knott's house. He 000:001;01[' ]| knew that he got in by the back door, but he was never to$9$ know, never, never to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| know, how the back door came to$9$ be$1$ opened. And if the back door had never opened, 000:001;01[' ]| but remained shut, then who knows Watt had never got into Mr. Knott's house at all, 000:001;01[' ]| but turned away, and returned to$4$ the station, and caught the first train back to$4$ town. 000:001;01[' ]| Unless he had got in through a window. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| No sooner had Watt crossed Mr. Knott's threshold than he saw that the house was not 000:001;01[' ]| in such darkness as he had 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| at first supposed, for a light was burning in the kitchen. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| When Watt reached this light he sat down beside it, on a chair. He set down his bags 000:001;01[' ]| beside him, on the beautiful red floor, and he took off his hat, for he had reached his 000:001;01[' ]| destination, discovering his scant red hair, and laid it on the table beside him. And a 000:001;01[' ]| pretty picture they made, Watt's scalp and red-grey tufts, and the floor burning up, from 000:001;01[' ]| below. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt saw, in the grate, of the range, the ashes grey. But they turned pale red, when he 000:001;01[' ]| covered the lamp, with his hat. The range was almost out, but not quite. A handful of dry 000:001;01[' ]| chips and the flames would spring, merry in appearance, up the chimney, with a organ 000:001;01[' ]| note. So Watt busied himself a little while, covering the lamp, less and less, more and 000:001;01[' ]| more, with his hat, watching the ashes greyen, redden, greyen, redden, in the grate, of 000:001;01[' ]| the range. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt was so busy doing this, moving his hat to$8$ and fro behind him, that he neither saw, 000:001;01[' ]| nor heard, the door open and a gentleman come in. So his surprise was extreme, when 000:001;01[' ]| he looked up from his little game. For it was no more than that, a innocent little game, 000:001;01[' ]| to$9$ while away the time. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Here then was something again that Watt would never know, for want of paying due 000:001;01[' ]| attention to$4$ what was going on about him. Not that it was a knowledge that could be$1$ of 000:001;01[' ]| any help to$4$ Watt, or any hurt, or cause him any pleasure, or cause him any pain, for it 000:001;01[' ]| was not. But he found it strange to$9$ think, of these little changes, of scene, the little gains, 000:001;01[' ]| the little losses, the thing brought, the thing removed, the light given, the light taken, and 000:001;01[' ]| all the vain offerings to$4$ the hour, strange to$9$ think of all these little things that cluster 000:001;01[' ]| round the comings, and the stayings, and the goings, that he would know nothing of 000:001;01[' ]| them, nothing of what they had been, as long as he lived, nothing of when they came, of 000:001;01[' ]| how they came, and how it was then, compared with 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| before, nothing of how long they stayed, of how they stayed, and what difference that 000:001;01[' ]| made, nothing of when they went, of how they went, and how it was then, compared 000:001;01[' ]| with before, before they came, before they went. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The gentleman wore a fine full apron of green baize. Watt thought he had never seen a 000:001;01[' ]| finer apron. In front there was a great pocket, or pouch, and in this the gentleman's 000:001;01[' ]| hands were buried. Watt saw the little movements of the stuff, the little bulgings and 000:001;01[' ]| crumplings, and the sudden indrawings, where it was nipped, between forefinger and 000:001;01[' ]| thumb probably, for those are the nippers. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The gentleman gazed long at Watt, and then went away, without a word of explanation. 000:001;01[' ]| Then Watt, for want of something to$9$ do$1$, went back to$4$ his little game, with the colours. 000:001;01[' ]| But he soon gave over. And the reason for that was perhaps this, that the ashes would 000:001;01[' ]| not redden any more, but remained grey, even in the dimmest light. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Finding himself now alone, with nothing in particular to$9$ do$1$. Watt put his forefinger in 000:001;01[' ]| his nose, first in one nostril, and then in the other. But there were no crusts in Watt's 000:001;01[' ]| nose, tonight. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But in a short time the gentleman reappeared, to$4$ Watt. He was dressed for the road, and 000:001;01[' ]| carried a stick. But no hat was on his head, nor any bag in his hand. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Before leaving he made the following short statement. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Haw! how it all comes back to$4$ me, to$9$ be$1$ sure. That look! That weary watchful vacancy! 000:001;01[' ]| The man arrives! The dark ways all behind, all within, the long dark ways, in his head, 000:001;01[' ]| in his side, in his hands and feet, and he sits in the red gloom, picking his nose, waiting 000:001;01[' ]| for the dawn to$9$ break. The dawn! The sun! The light! Haw! The long blue days for his 000:001;01[' ]| head, for his side, and the little paths for his feet, and all the brightness to$9$ touch and 000:001;01[' ]| gather. Through the grass the little mosspaths, bony with old roots, and the trees 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| sticking up, and the flowers sticking up, and the fruit hanging down, and the white 000:001;01[' ]| exhausted butterflies, and the birds never the same darting all day into hiding. And all 000:001;01[' ]| the sounds, meaning nothing. Then at night rest in the quiet house, there are no roads, no 000:001;01[' ]| streets any more, you lie down by a window opening on refuge, the little sounds come 000:001;01[' ]| that demand nothing, ordain nothing, explain nothing, propound nothing, and the short 000:001;01[' ]| necessary night is soon ended, and the sky blue again over all the secret places where 000:001;01[' ]| nobody ever comes, the secret places never the same, but always simple and indifferent, 000:001;01[' ]| always mere places, sites of a stirring beyond coming and going, of a being so light and 000:001;01[' ]| free that it is as the being of nothing. How I feel it all again, after so long, here, and 000:001;01[' ]| here, and in my hands, and in my eyes, like a face raised, a face offered, all trust and 000:001;01[' ]| innocence and candour, all the old soil and fear and weakness offered, to$9$ be$1$ sponged 000:001;01[' ]| away and forgiven! Haw! Or did I never feel it till now? Now when there is no warrant? 000:001;01[' ]| Would not surprise me. All forgiven and healed. For ever. In a moment. Tomorrow. Six, 000:001;01[' ]| five, four hours still, of the old dark, the old burden, lightening, lightening. For one is 000:001;01[' ]| come, to$9$ stay. Haw! All the old ways led to$4$ this, all the old windings, the stairs with 000:001;01[' ]| never a landing that you screw yourself up, clutching the rail, counting the steps, the 000:001;01[' ]| fever of shortest ways under the long lids of sky, the wild country roads where your dead 000:001;01[' ]| walk beside you, on the dark shingle the turning for the last time again to$4$ the lights of 000:001;01[' ]| the little town, the appointments kept and the appointments broken, all the delights of 000:001;01[' ]| urban and rural change of place, all the exitus and redditus, closed and ended. All led to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| this, to$4$ this gloaming where a middle-aged man sits masturbating his snout, waiting for 000:001;01[' ]| the first dawn to$9$ break. For of course he is not as yet familiar with the premises. Indeed 000:001;01[' ]| it is a wonder to$4$ him, and will remain 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| so, how having found the neighbourhood he found the gate, and how having found 000:001;01[' ]| the gate he found the door, and how having found the door he passed beyond it. No 000:001;01[' ]| matter, he is content. No. Let us not exaggerate. He is well pleased. For he knows he 000:001;01[' ]| is in the right place, at last. And he knows he is the right man at last. In another place 000:001;01[' ]| he would be$1$ the wrong man still, and for another man, yes, for another man it would 000:001;01[' ]| be$1$ the wrong place again. But he being what he has become, and the place being 000:001;01[' ]| what it was made, the fit is perfect. And he knows this. No. Let us remain calm. He 000:001;01[' ]| feels it. The sensations, the premonitions of harmony are irrefragable, of imminent 000:001;01[' ]| harmony, when all outside him will be$1$ he, the flowers the flowers that he is among 000:001;01[' ]| him, the sky the sky that he is above him, the earth trodden the earth treading, and all 000:001;01[' ]| sound his echo. When in a word he will be$1$ in his midst at last, after so many tedious 000:001;01[' ]| years spent clinging to$4$ the perimeter. These first impressions, so hardly won, are 000:001;01[' ]| undoubtedly delicious. What a feeling of security! They are transports that few are 000:001;01[' ]| spared, nature is so exceedingly accommodating, on the one hand, and man, on the 000:001;01[' ]| other. With what sudden colours past trials and errors glow, seen in their new, their 000:001;01[' ]| true perspective, mere stepping-stones to$4$ this! Haw! All is repaid, amply repaid. For 000:001;01[' ]| he has arrived. He even ventures to$9$ remove his hat, and set down his bags, without 000:001;01[' ]| misgiving. Think of that! He removes his hat without misgiving, he unbuttons his 000:001;01[' ]| coat and sits down, proffered all pure and open to$4$ the long joys of being himself, like 000:001;01[' ]| a basin to$4$ a vomit. Oh, not in idleness. For there is work to$9$ do$1$. That is what is so 000:001;01[' ]| exquisite. Having oscillated all his life between the torments of a superficial loitering 000:001;01[' ]| and the horrors of disinterested endeavour, he finds himself at last in a situation 000:001;01[' ]| where to$9$ do$1$ nothing exclusively would be$1$ a act of the highest value, and 000:001;01[' ]| significance. And what happens? For the first time, 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| since in anguish and disgust he relieved his mother of her$2$ milk, definite tasks of 000:001;01[' ]| unquestionable utility are assigned to$4$ him. Is not that charming? But his regret, his 000:001;01[' ]| indignation, are of short duration, disappearing as a rule at the end of the third or 000:001;01[' ]| fourth month. Why is this? It is because of the nature of the work to$9$ be$1$ performed, 000:001;01[' ]| because of its exceptional fruitfulness, because he comes to$9$ understand that he is 000:001;01[' ]| working not merely for Mr. Knott in person, and for Mr. Knott's establishment, but 000:001;01[' ]| also, and indeed chiefly, for himself, that he may abide, as he is, where he is, and 000:001;01[' ]| that where he is may abide about him, as it is. Unable to$9$ resist these intenerating 000:001;01[' ]| considerations, his regrets, lively at first, melt at last, melt quite away and pass over, 000:001;01[' ]| softly, into the celebrated conviction that all is well, or at least for the best. His 000:001;01[' ]| indignation undergoes a similar reduction, and calm and glad at last he goes about 000:001;01[' ]| his work, calm and glad he peels the potato and empties the nightstool, calm and 000:001;01[' ]| glad he witnesses and is witnessed. For a time. For the day comes when he says, Am 000:001;01[' ]| I not a little out of sorts, today? Not that he feels out of sorts, on the contrary, he 000:001;01[' ]| feels if possible even better disposed than usual. Haw! He feels if possible even 000:001;01[' ]| better disposed than usual and he asks himself if he is not perhaps a little seedy. The 000:001;01[' ]| fool! He has learnt nothing. Nothing. Pardon my vehemence. But that is a terrible 000:001;01[' ]| day (to$9$ look back on), the day when the horror of what has happened reduces him to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| the ignoble expedient of inspecting his tongue in a mirror, his tongue never so rosy, 000:001;01[' ]| in a breath never so sweet. It was a Tuesday afternoon, in the month of October, a 000:001;01[' ]| beautiful October afternoon. I was sitting on the step, in the yard, looking at the light, 000:001;01[' ]| on the wall. I was in the sun, and the wall was in the sun. I was the sun, need I add, 000:001;01[' ]| and the wall, and the step, and the yard, and the time of year, and the time of day, to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| mention only these. To$9$ be$1$ sitting, at so pleasant 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| a conjuncture of one's courses, in oneself, by oneself, that I think it will freely be$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| admitted is a way no worse than another, and better than some, of whiling away a 000:001;01[' ]| instant of leisure. Puffing away at, the same time at my tobacco-pipe, 000:001;01[' ]| which was as flat and broad that afternoon as a apothecary's slice, I felt my breast 000:001;01[' ]| swell, like a pelican's I think it is. For joy? Well, no, perhaps not exactly for joy. 000:001;01[' ]| For the change of which I speak had not yet taken place. Hymeneal still it lay, the 000:001;01[' ]| thing so soon to$9$ be$1$ changed, between me and all the forgotten horrors of joy. But let 000:001;01[' ]| us not linger on my breast. Look at it now ~~ bugger these buttons! ~~ as flat and ~~ 000:001;01[' ]| ow! ~~ as hollow as a tambourine. You saw? You heard? No matter. Where was I? 000:001;01[' ]| The change. In what did it consist? It is hard to$9$ say$1$. Something slipped. There I was, 000:001;01[' ]| warm and bright, smoking my tobacco-pipe, watching the warm bright wall, when 000:001;01[' ]| suddenly somewhere some little thing slipped, some little tiny thing. Gliss ~~ iss 000:001;01[' ]| ~~ iss ~~ STOP! I trust I make myself clear. There is a great alp of sand, one 000:001;01[' ]| hundred metres high, between the pines and the ocean, and there in the warm 000:001;01[' ]| moonless night, when no one is looking, no one listening, in tiny packets of two 000:001;01[' ]| or three millions the grains slip, all together, a little slip of one or two lines maybe, 000:001;01[' ]| and then stop, all together, not one missing, and that is all, that is all for that night, 000:001;01[' ]| and perhaps for ever that is all, for in the morning with the sun a little wind from the 000:001;01[' ]| sea may come, and blow them one from another far apart, or a pedestrian scatter 000:001;01[' ]| them with his foot, though that is less likely. It was a slip like that I felt, that Tuesday 000:001;01[' ]| afternoon, millions of little things moving all together out of their old place, into a 000:001;01[' ]| new one near by, and furtively, as though it were forbidden. And I have little 000:001;01[' ]| doubt that I was the only person living to$9$ discover them. To$9$ conclude from this that 000:001;01[' ]| the incident was internal would, I think, be$1$ rash. For my ~~ how shall I say$1$? ~~ my 000:001;01[' ]| personal 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| system was so distended at the period of which I speak that the distinction between 000:001;01[' ]| what was inside it and what was outside it was not at all easy to$9$ draw. Everything 000:001;01[' ]| that happened happened inside it, and at the same time everything that happened 000:001;01[' ]| happened outside it. I trust I make myself plain. I did not, need I add, see the thing 000:001;01[' ]| happen, nor hear it, but I perceived it with a perception so sensuous that in 000:001;01[' ]| comparison the impressions of a man buried alive in Lisbon on Lisbon's great day 000:001;01[' ]| seem a frigid and artificial construction of the understanding. The sun on the wall, 000:001;01[' ]| since I was looking at the sun on the wall at the time, underwent a instantaneous 000:001;01[' ]| and I venture to$9$ say$1$ radical change of appearance. It was the same sun and the same 000:001;01[' ]| wall, or so little older that the difference may safely be$1$ disregarded, but so changed 000:001;01[' ]| that I felt I had been transported, without my having remarked it, to$4$ some quite 000:001;01[' ]| different yard, and to$4$ some quite different season, in a unfamiliar country. At the 000:001;01[' ]| same time my tobacco-pipe, since I was not eating a banana, ceased so completely 000:001;01[' ]| from the solace to$4$ which I was inured, that I took it out of my mouth to$9$ make sure it 000:001;01[' ]| was not a thermometer, or a epileptic's dental wedge. And my breast, on which I 000:001;01[' ]| could almost feel the feathers stirring, in the charming way breast feathers have, 000:001;01[' ]| relapsed into the void and bony concavity which my dear tutor used to$9$ say$1$ reminded 000:001;01[' ]| him of Cre=cy. For my spine and sternum have always been concentric, ever since I 000:001;01[' ]| was a little nipper. It was then in my distress that I had the baseness to$9$ call to$4$ my aid 000:001;01[' ]| recent costiveness and want of stomach. But in what did the change consist? What 000:001;01[' ]| was changed, and how? What was changed, if my information is correct, was the 000:001;01[' ]| sentiment that a change, other than a change of degree, had taken place. What was 000:001;01[' ]| changed was existence off the ladder. Do not come down the ladder, Ifor, I haf taken 000:001;01[' ]| it away. This I am happy to$9$ inform you is the reversed metamorphosis. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The Laurel into Daphne. The old thing where it always was, back again. As when a man, 000:001;01[' ]| having found at last what he sought, a woman, for example, or a friend, loses it, or 000:001;01[' ]| realizes what it is. And yet it is useless not to$9$ seek, not to$9$ want, for when you cease to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| seek you start to$9$ find, and when you cease to$9$ want, then life begins to$9$ ram her$2$ fish and 000:001;01[' ]| chips down your gullet until you puke, and then the puke down your gullet until you 000:001;01[' ]| puke the puke, and then the puked puke until you begin to$9$ like it. The glutton castaway, 000:001;01[' ]| the drunkard in the desert, the lecher in prison, they are the happy ones. To$4$ hunger, 000:001;01[' ]| thirst, lust, every day afresh and every day in vain, after the old prog, the old booze, the 000:001;01[' ]| old whores, that is the nearest we will ever get to$4$ felicity, the new porch and the very latest 000:001;01[' ]| garden. I pass on the tip for what it is worth. But how did this sentiment arise, that a 000:001;01[' ]| change other than a change of degree had taken place? And to$4$ what if to$4$ any reality did 000:001;01[' ]| it correspond? And to$4$ what forces is the credit for its removal to$9$ be$1$ attributed? These are 000:001;01[' ]| questions from which, with patience, it would be$1$ a easy matter to$9$ extract the next in 000:001;01[' ]| order, and so descend, so mount, rung by rung, until the night was over. Unfortunately I 000:001;01[' ]| have information of a practical nature to$9$ impart, that is to$9$ say$1$ a debt to$9$ pay, or a score to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| settle, before I depart. So I shall merely state, without enquiring how it came, or how it 000:001;01[' ]| went, that in my opinion it was not a illusion, as long as it lasted, that presence of what 000:001;01[' ]| did not exist, that presence without, that presence within, that presence between, though 000:001;01[' ]| I will be$1$ buggered if I can understand how it could have$1$ been anything else. But that and 000:001;01[' ]| the rest, haw! the rest, you will decide for yourself, when your time comes, or rather you 000:001;01[' ]| will leave undecided, to$9$ judge by the look of you. For do not imagine me to$9$ suggest that 000:001;01[' ]| what has happened to$4$ me, what is happening to$4$ me, will ever happen to$4$ you, or that 000:001;01[' ]| what is happening to$4$ you, 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| what will happen to$4$ you, has ever happened to$4$ me, or rather, if it will, if it has, that 000:001;01[' ]| there is any great chance of its being admitted. For in truth the same things happen to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| us all, especially to$4$ men in our situation, whatever that is, if only we chose to$9$ know 000:001;01[' ]| it. But I am worse than Mr. Ash, a man I once knew to$9$ nod to$5$. One evening I ran into 000:001;01[' ]| him on Westminster Bridge. It was blowing heavily. It was also snowing heavily. I 000:001;01[' ]| nodded, heavily. In vain. Securing me with one hand, he removed from the other 000:001;01[' ]| with his mouth two pairs of leather gauntlets, unwound his heavy woollen muffler, 000:001;01[' ]| unbuttoned successively and flung aside his great coat, jerkin, coat, two waistcoats, 000:001;01[' ]| shirt, outer and inner vests, coaxed from a washleather fob hanging in company with 000:001;01[' ]| a crucifix I imagine from his neck a gunmetal half-hunter, sprang open its case, held 000:001;01[' ]| it to$4$ his eyes (night was falling), recovered in a series of converse operations his 000:001;01[' ]| original form, said, Seventeen minutes past five exactly, as God is my witness, 000:001;01[' ]| remember me to$4$ your wife (I never had one), let go my arm, raised his hat and 000:001;01[' ]| hastened away. A moment later Big Ben (is that the name?) struck six. This in my 000:001;01[' ]| opinion is the type of all information whatsoever, be it voluntary or solicited. If you 000:001;01[' ]| want a stone, ask a turnover. If you want a turnover, ask plum-pudding. This Ash was 000:001;01[' ]| what I believe is still called a Admiralty Clerk of the Second Class and with that a 000:001;01[' ]| sterling fellow. Such vermin pullulate. He died of premature exhaustion, the 000:001;01[' ]| following week, oiled and houseled, leaving his half-hunter to$4$ his house-plumber. 000:001;01[' ]| Personally of course I regret everything. Not a word, not a deed, not a thought, not a 000:001;01[' ]| need, not a grief, not a joy, not a girl, not a boy, not a doubt, not a trust, not a scorn, 000:001;01[' ]| not a lust, not a hope, not a fear, not a smile, not a tear, not a name, not a face, no 000:001;01[' ]| time, no place, that I do not regret, exceedingly. a ordure, from beginning to$4$ end. 000:001;01[' ]| And yet, when I sat for Fellowship, but for the boil 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| on my bottom The rest, a ordure. The Tuesday scowls, the Wednesday growls, the 000:001;01[' ]| Thursday curses, the Friday howls, the Saturday snores, the Sunday yawns, the 000:001;01[' ]| Monday morns, the Monday morns. The whacks, the moans, the cracks, the groans, 000:001;01[' ]| the welts, the squeaks, the belts, the shrieks, the pricks, the prayers, the kicks, the 000:001;01[' ]| tears, the skelps, and the yelps. And the poor old lousy old earth, my earth and my 000:001;01[' ]| father's and my mother's and my father's father's and my mother's mother's and my 000:001;01[' ]| father's mother's and my mother's father's and my father's mother's father's and my 000:001;01[' ]| mother's father's mother's and my father's mother's mother's and my mother's father's 000:001;01[' ]| father's and my father's father's mother's and my mother's mother's father's and 000:001;01[' ]| my father's father's father's and my mother's mother's mother's and other people's 000:001;01[' ]| fathers' and mothers' and fathers' fathers' and mothers' mothers' and fathers' mothers' 000:001;01[' ]| and mothers' fathers' and fathers' mothers' fathers' and mothers' fathers' mothers' and 000:001;01[' ]| fathers' mothers' mothers' and mothers' fathers' fathers' and fathers' fathers' mothers' 000:001;01[' ]| and mothers' mothers' fathers' and fathers' fathers' fathers' and mothers' mothers' 000:001;01[' ]| mothers'. a excrement. The crocuses and the larch turning green every year a week 000:001;01[' ]| before the others and the pastures red with uneaten sheep's placentas and the long 000:001;01[' ]| summer days and the new-mown hay and the wood-pigeon in the morning and the 000:001;01[' ]| cuckoo in the afternoon and the corncrake in the evening and the wasps in the jam 000:001;01[' ]| and the smell of the gorse and the look of the gorse and the apples falling and the 000:001;01[' ]| children walking in the dead leaves and the larch turning brown a week before the 000:001;01[' ]| others and the chestnuts falling and the howling winds and the sea breaking over the 000:001;01[' ]| pier and the first fires and the hooves on the road and the consumptive postman 000:001;01[' ]| whistling The Roses Are Blooming in Picardy and the standard oil-lamp and of 000:001;01[' ]| course the snow and to$9$ be$1$ sure the sleet and 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| bless your heart the slush and every fourth year the February de=ba^cle and the endless 000:001;01[' ]| April showers and the crocuses and then the whole bloody business starting all over 000:001;01[' ]| again. A turd. And if I could begin it all over again, knowing what I know now, the 000:001;01[' ]| result would be$1$ the same. And if I could begin again a third time, knowing what I would 000:001;01[' ]| know then, the result would be$1$ the same. And if I could begin it all over again a hundred 000:001;01[' ]| times, knowing each time a little more than the time before, the result would always be$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| the same, and the hundredth life as the first, and the hundred lives as one. A cat's flux. 000:001;01[' ]| But at this rate we shall be$1$ here all night. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| We shall be$1$ here all night, 000:001;01[' ]| Be$1$ here all night shall we, 000:001;01[' ]| All night we shall be$1$ here, 000:001;01[' ]| Here all night we shall be$1$. 000:001;01[' ]| One dark, one still, one breath, 000:001;01[' ]| Night here, here we, we night, 000:001;01[' ]| One fleeing, fleeing to$4$ rest. 000:001;01[' ]| One resting on the flight. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Haw! You heard that one? A beauty. Haw! Hell! Haw! So. Haw! Haw! Haw! My laugh, 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. ~~? I beg your pardon. Like Tyler? Haw! My laugh, Mr. Watt. Christian name, 000:001;01[' ]| forgotten. Yes. Of all the laughs that strictly speaking are not laughs, but modes of 000:001;01[' ]| ululation, only three I think need detain us, I mean the bitter, the hollow and the 000:001;01[' ]| mirthless. They correspond to$4$ successive, how shall I say$1$ successive ... suc ... successive 000:001;01[' ]| excoriations of the understanding, and the passage from the one to$4$ the other is the 000:001;01[' ]| passage from the lesser to$4$ the greater, from the lower to$4$ the higher, from the outer to$4$ the 000:001;01[' ]| inner, from the gross to$4$ the fine, from the matter to$4$ the form. The laugh that now is 000:001;01[' ]| mirthless once was hollow, the laugh that once was hollow 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| once was bitter. And the laugh that once was bitter? Eyewater, Mr. Watt, eyewater. 000:001;01[' ]| But do not let us waste our time with that, do not let us waste any more time with 000:001;01[' ]| that, Mr. Watt. No. Where were we. The bitter, the hollow and ~~ haw! haw! ~~ the 000:001;01[' ]| mirthless. The bitter laugh laughs at that which is not good, it is the ethical laugh. 000:001;01[' ]| The hollow laugh laughs at that which is not true, it is the intellectual laugh. Not 000:001;01[' ]| good! Not true! Well well. But the mirthless laugh is the dianoetic laugh, down the 000:001;01[' ]| snout ~~ haw! ~~ so. It is the laugh of laughs, the risus purus, the laugh laughing at 000:001;01[' ]| the laugh, the beholding, the saluting of the highest joke, in a word the laugh that 000:001;01[' ]| laughs ~~ silence please ~~ at that which is unhappy. Personally of course I regret 000:001;01[' ]| all. All, all, all. Not a word, not a ~~. But have I not been over that already? I have? 000:001;01[' ]| Then let me speak rather of my present feeling, which so closely resembles the 000:001;01[' ]| feeling of sorrow, so closely that I can scarcely distinguish between them. Yes. When 000:001;01[' ]| I think that this hour is my last on earth on Mr. Knott's premises, where I have spent 000:001;01[' ]| so many hours, so many happy hours, so many unhappy hours, and ~~ worst of all ~~ 000:001;01[' ]| so many hours that were neither happy nor unhappy, and that before the cock crows, 000:001;01[' ]| or at very latest very little later, my weary little legs must be$1$ carrying me as best they 000:001;01[' ]| may away, my trunk that is wearier still and my head that is weariest of all, away far 000:001;01[' ]| away from this state or place on which my hopes so long were fixed, as fast as they 000:001;01[' ]| can move in and out the weary little fat bottom and belly away, and the shrunk chest, 000:001;01[' ]| and the poor little fat bald head feeling as though it were falling off, faster and faster 000:001;01[' ]| through the grey air and further and further away, in any one no matter which of the 000:001;01[' ]| three hundred and sixty directions open to$4$ a desperate man of average agility, and 000:001;01[' ]| often I turn, tears blinding my eyes, haw! without however pausing in my career (no 000:001;01[' ]| easy matter), 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| perhaps longing to$9$ be$1$ turned into a stone pillar or a cromlech in the middle of a field or 000:001;01[' ]| on the mountain-side for succeeding generations to$9$ admire and for cows and horses and 000:001;01[' ]| sheep and goats to$9$ come and scratch themselves against and for men and dogs to$9$ make 000:001;01[' ]| their water against and for learned men to$9$ speculate regarding and for disappointed men 000:001;01[' ]| to$9$ inscribe with party slogans and indelicate graffiti and for lovers to$9$ scratch their names 000:001;01[' ]| on, in a heart, with the date, and for now and then a lonely man like myself to$9$ sit down 000:001;01[' ]| with his back against and fall asleep, in the sun, if the sun happened to$9$ be$1$ shining. And 000:001;01[' ]| consequently I feel a feeling that closely resembles in every particular the feeling of 000:001;01[' ]| sorrow, sorrow for what has been, is and is to$9$ come, as far as I personally am concerned, 000:001;01[' ]| for with the troubles and difficulties of other people I am in no fit state for the time 000:001;01[' ]| being to$9$ trouble my head, which begins to$9$ feel as though it were falling off, than which I 000:001;01[' ]| think it will be$1$ readily allowed that for the intellectual type of chap, haw! like me few 000:001;01[' ]| sensations can be$1$ more painful, just as for the luxurious type of fellow it would be$1$ the 000:001;01[' ]| feeling of his private parts on the point of falling off that would very likely be$1$ the most 000:001;01[' ]| worrying, and so on for the various other different types of men. Yes, these moments 000:001;01[' ]| together have changed us, your moments and my moments, so that we are not only no 000:001;01[' ]| longer the same now as when they began ~~ ticktick! ticktick! ~~ to$9$ elapse, but we 000:001;01[' ]| know that we are no longer the same, and not only know that we are no longer the same, 000:001;01[' ]| but know in what we are no longer the same, you wiser but not sadder, and I sadder but 000:001;01[' ]| not wiser, for wiser I could hardly become without grave personal inconvenience, 000:001;01[' ]| whereas sorrow is a thing you can keep on adding to$4$ all your life long, is it not, like a 000:001;01[' ]| stamp or egg collection, without feeling very much the worse for it, is it not Now when 000:001;01[' ]| one man takes the place of another man, 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| then it is perhaps of assistance to$4$ him who takes the place to$9$ know something of him 000:001;01[' ]| whose place he takes, though to$9$ be$1$ sure at the same time on the other hand the 000:001;01[' ]| inverse is not necessarily true, I mean that he whose place is taken can hardly be$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| expected to$9$ feel any great curiosity about him who takes his place. This interesting 000:001;01[' ]| relation is I regret often established by procuration. Consider for example the 000:001;01[' ]| increeping and outbouncing house ~~ and parlour-maids (I say house ~~ and 000:001;01[' ]| parlour-maids, but you know what I mean), the latter having bounced out before the 000:001;01[' ]| former crept in, in such a way as to$9$ exclude all possibility of encounter whether on 000:001;01[' ]| the drive or on the way to$4$ and from the tram-stop, bus-stop, railway-station, 000:001;01[' ]| cab-rank, taxi-stand, bar parlour or canal. Now let the name of the former of these 000:001;01[' ]| two women be$1$ Mary, and that of the latter Ann, or, better still, that of the former Ann 000:001;01[' ]| and that of the latter Mary, and let there exist a third person, the mistress, or the 000:001;01[' ]| master, for without some such superior existence the existence of the house and 000:001;01[' ]| parlour-maid, whether on the way to$4$ the house and parlour, or on the way from the 000:001;01[' ]| house and parlour, or motionless in the house and parlour, is hardly conceivable. 000:001;01[' ]| Then this third person, on whose existence the existences of Ann and Mary depend, 000:001;01[' ]| and whose existence also in a sense if you like depends on the existences of Ann and. 000:001;01[' ]| Mary, says to$4$ Mary, no, says to$4$ Ann, for by this time Mary is afar off, in the tram, the 000:001;01[' ]| bus, the train, the cab, the taxi, the bar parlour or canal, says to$4$ Ann, Jane, in the 000:001;01[' ]| morning when Mary had finished doing this, if Mary may be$1$ said to$9$ have$1$ ever 000:001;01[' ]| finished doing anything, then she began to$9$ do$1$ this, that is to$9$ say$1$ she settled herself 000:001;01[' ]| firmly in a comfortable semi-upright posture before the task to$9$ be$1$ performed and 000:001;01[' ]| remained there quietly eating onions and peppermints turn and turn about, I mean 000:001;01[' ]| first a onion, then a peppermint, then another onion, then another 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| peppermint, then another onion, then another peppermint, then another onion, then 000:001;01[' ]| another peppermint, then another onion, then another peppermint, then another 000:001;01[' ]| onion, then another peppermint, then another onion, then another peppermint, then 000:001;01[' ]| another onion, then another peppermint, then another onion, then another 000:001;01[' ]| peppermint, and so on, while little by little the reason for her$2$ presence in that place 000:001;01[' ]| faded from her$2$ mind, as with the dawn the figments of the id, and the duster, whose 000:001;01[' ]| burden up till now she had so bravely born, fell from her$2$ fingers, to$4$ the dust, where 000:001;01[' ]| having at once assumed the colour (grey) of its surroundings it disappeared until the 000:001;01[' ]| following Spring. a average of anything from twenty-six to$4$ twenty-seven splendid 000:001;01[' ]| woollen dusters per mensem were lost in this way by our Mary during her$2$ last year of 000:001;01[' ]| service in this unfortunate house. Now what, it may well be$1$ asked, can the fancies 000:001;01[' ]| have$1$ been that so ravished Mary from a sense of her$2$ situation? Dreams of less work 000:001;01[' ]| and higher wages? Erotic cravings? Recollections of childhood? Menopausal 000:001;01[' ]| discomfort? Grief for a loved one defunct or departed for a unknown destination? 000:001;01[' ]| Daltonic visualizations of the morning paper's racing programme? Prayers for a soul? 000:001;01[' ]| She was not a woman to$9$ confide. And indeed I think I am correct in saying that she 000:001;01[' ]| was opposed to$4$ conversation on principle as such. Whole days, and even entire 000:001;01[' ]| weeks, would glide away without Mary's having opened her$2$ gob for any purpose 000:001;01[' ]| other than the reception of her$2$ five fingers fastened firmly on a fragment of food. for 000:001;01[' ]| to$4$ the spoon, the knife, and even the fork, considered as aids to$4$ ingestion, she had 000:001;01[' ]| never been able to$9$ accustom herself, in spite of excellent references. Her$2$ appetite, on 000:001;01[' ]| the other hand, was quite exceptional. Not that the food absorbed by Mary, over a 000:001;01[' ]| given period, was greater in mass, or richer in vitamins, than the normal healthy 000:001;01[' ]| persons allowance for the same time. No. But her$2$ 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| appetite was exceptional in this, that it knew no remission. The ordinary person eats a 000:001;01[' ]| meal, then rests from eating for a space, then eats again, then rests again, then eats 000:001;01[' ]| again, then rests again, then eats again, then rests again, then eats again, then rests again, 000:001;01[' ]| then eats again, then rests again, then eats again, then rests again, and in this way, now 000:001;01[' ]| eating, and now resting from eating, he deals with the difficult problem of hunger, and 000:001;01[' ]| indeed I think I may add thirst, to$4$ the best of his ability and according to$4$ the state of his 000:001;01[' ]| fortune. Let him be$1$ a small eater, a moderate eater, a heavy eater, a vegetarian, a 000:001;01[' ]| naturist, a cannibal, a coprophile, let him look forward to$4$ his eating with pleasure or 000:001;01[' ]| back on it with regret or both, let him eliminate well or let him eliminate ill, let him 000:001;01[' ]| eructate, vomit, break wind or in other ways fall or scorn to$9$ contain himself as a result 000:001;01[' ]| of a ill-adapted diet, congenital affliction or faulty training during the impressionable 000:001;01[' ]| years, let him, Jane, I say, be$1$ one or more or all or more than all of these, or let him on 000:001;01[' ]| the other hand be$1$ none of these, but something quite different, as would be$1$ the case for 000:001;01[' ]| example if he were on hunger strike or in a catatonic stupor or obliged for some reason 000:001;01[' ]| best known to$4$ his medical advisers to$9$ turn for his sustenance to$4$ the clyster, the fact 000:001;01[' ]| remains, and can hardly be$1$ denied, that he proceeds by what we call meals, whether 000:001;01[' ]| taken voluntarily or involuntarily, with pleasure or pain, successfully or unsuccessfully, 000:001;01[' ]| through the mouth, the nose, the pores, the feed-tube or in a upward direction with the 000:001;01[' ]| aid of a piston from behind is not of the slightest importance, and that between these 000:001;01[' ]| acts of nutrition, without which life as it is generally understood would be$1$ hard set to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| continue, there intervene periods of rest or repose, during which no food is taken, unless 000:001;01[' ]| it be every now and then from time to$4$ time a occasional snack, quick drink or light 000:001;01[' ]| collation, rendered if not indispensable at least welcome 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| by a unforeseen acceleration of the metabolic exchanges due to$4$ circumstances of a 000:001;01[' ]| imprevisible kind, as for example the backing of a loser, the birth of a child, the 000:001;01[' ]| payment of a debt, the recovery of a loan, the voice of conscience, or any other shock 000:001;01[' ]| to$4$ the great sympathetic, causing a sudden rush of chyme, or chyle, or both, to$4$ the 000:001;01[' ]| semi-digested slowly surely earthward struggling mass of sherry wine, soup, beer, 000:001;01[' ]| fish, stout, meat, beer, vegetables, sweet, fruit, cheese, stout, anchovy, beer, coffee 000:001;01[' ]| and benedictine, for example, swallowed lightheartedly but a few short hours before 000:001;01[' ]| to$4$ the strains as likely as not of a piano and cello. Whereas Mary ate all day long, 000:001;01[' ]| that is to$9$ say$1$ from early dawn, or at least from the hour at which she woke, which to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| judge from the hour at which she rose, or rather at which she first appeared in the 000:001;01[' ]| bowels of this unhappy home, was in no way premature, to$4$ late at night, for she 000:001;01[' ]| retired to$9$ rest with great punctuality every evening at eight o'clock, leaving the 000:001;01[' ]| dinner things on the table, and fell at once into a exhausted sleep, if her$2$ snores, of 000:001;01[' ]| which as I have often been heard to$9$ remark I never heard the like, were not 000:001;01[' ]| simulated, which I for my part will never believe, seeing as how they continued with 000:001;01[' ]| undiminished sonority all night long, from which I may add I am inclined to$9$ suspect 000:001;01[' ]| that Mary, like so many women, slept on the flat of her$2$ back, a dangerous and 000:001;01[' ]| detestable practice in my opinion, though I know there are times when it is difficult, 000:001;01[' ]| not to$9$ say$1$ impossible, to$9$ do$1$ otherwise. Ahem! Now when I say that Mary ate all day, 000:001;01[' ]| from her$2$ opening her$2$ eyes in the morning to$4$ her$2$ closing them at night, in sleep, I 000:001;01[' ]| mean that at no moment during this period was Mary's mouth more than half-empty, 000:001;01[' ]| or, if you prefer, less than half-full, for to$4$ the habit generally received of finishing 000:001;01[' ]| one mouthful before initiating the next Mary had never, notwithstanding her$2$ 000:001;01[' ]| remarkable papers, been able to$9$ adapt herself Now when 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I say that at no moment of Mary's waking hours was Mary's mouth more than 000:001;01[' ]| half-empty, or less than half-full, I do not mean that it was always so, for on close 000:001;01[' ]| and even on casual inspection it would have$1$ been found, nine times out of ten, full to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| overflowing, which goes far towards explaining Mary's indifference to$4$ the pleasures 000:001;01[' ]| of conversation. Now when speaking of Mary's mouth I make use of the expression 000:001;01[' ]| full to$4$ overflowing, I do not merely mean to$9$ say$1$ that it was so full, nine-tenths of the 000:001;01[' ]| time, that it threatened to$9$ overflow, but in my thought I go further and I assert, 000:001;01[' ]| without fear of contradiction, that it was so full, nine-tenths of the time, that it did 000:001;01[' ]| overflow, all over this ill-fated interior, and traces of this exuberance, in the form of 000:001;01[' ]| partially masticated morsels of meat, fruit, bread, vegetables, nuts and pastry I have 000:001;01[' ]| frequently found in places as remote in space, and distinct in purpose, as the 000:001;01[' ]| coal-hole, the conservatory, the American Bar, the oratory, the cellar, the attic, the 000:001;01[' ]| dairy and, I say it with shame, the servants' W.C., where a greater part of Mary's time 000:001;01[' ]| was spent than seemed compatible with a satisfactory, or even tolerable, condition of 000:001;01[' ]| the digestive apparatus, unless we are to$9$ suppose that she retired to$4$ that place in 000:001;01[' ]| search of a little fresh air, rest and quiet, for a woman more attached to$4$ rest and quiet 000:001;01[' ]| I have never, I say it without fear of exaggeration, known or even heard of. But to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| return to$4$ where we left her$6$, I see her$6$ still, propped up in a kind of stupor against one 000:001;01[' ]| of the walls in which this wretched edifice abounds, her$2$ long grey greasy hair 000:001;01[' ]| framing in its cowl of scrofulous mats a face where pallor, languor, hunger, acne, 000:001;01[' ]| recent dirt, irnmemorial chagrin and surplus hair seemed to$9$ dispute the mastery. 000:001;01[' ]| Flitters of perforated starch entwine a ear. Under the rusty cotton frock, plentifully 000:001;01[' ]| embossed with scabs of slobber, two cup-like depressions mark the place of the 000:001;01[' ]| bosom and a conical protuberance that of the abdomen. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Between on the one hand a large pouch or bag, containing the forenoon's supplies, 000:001;01[' ]| cunningly dissimulated in the tattered skirt, and on the other Mary's mouth, Mary's 000:001;01[' ]| hands flash to$8$ and fro, with a regularity that I do not hesitate to$9$ compare with that of 000:001;01[' ]| piston-rods. At the moment that the one hand presses, with open palm, between the 000:001;01[' ]| indefatigable jaws, a cold potato, onion, tart or sandwich, the other darts into the 000:001;01[' ]| pouch and there, unerringly, fastens on a sandwich, onion, tart or cold potato, as 000:001;01[' ]| Mary wills. And the former, on its way down to$9$ be$1$ filled, meets the latter on its way 000:001;01[' ]| up to$9$ be$1$ emptied, at a point equidistant from their points of departure, or arrival. And 000:001;01[' ]| save for the flying arms, and champing mouth, and swallowing throat, not a muscle 000:001;01[' ]| of Mary stirs, and over all the dreaming face, which may strike you, Jane, as strange, 000:001;01[' ]| but, believe me, Jane, I invent nothing. Now with regard to$4$ Mary's limbs, ahem, of 000:001;01[' ]| which I think I am correct in saying that no mention has yet been made, winter and 000:001;01[' ]| summer.... Winter and summer. And so on. Summer! When I lie dying, Mr. Watt, 000:001;01[' ]| behind the red screen, you know, perhaps that is the word that will sound, summer, 000:001;01[' ]| and the words for summer things. Not that I ever much cared for them. But some call 000:001;01[' ]| for the priest, and others for the long days when the sun was a burden. It was summer 000:001;01[' ]| when I landed here. And now I shall finish and you will hear my voice no more, 000:001;01[' ]| unless we meet again elsewhere, which considering the probable state of our health 000:001;01[' ]| is not likely. For then I shall rise, no, I am not seated, then I shall go, just as I am, in 000:001;01[' ]| the things I stand up in, if you can call this standing up, with not so much as a 000:001;01[' ]| toothbrush in my pocket to$9$ brush my tooth with, morning and evening, or a penny in 000:001;01[' ]| my purse to$9$ buy me a bun in the heat of noonday, without a hope, a friend, a plan, a 000:001;01[' ]| prospect or a hat to$4$ my head to$9$ take off to$4$ the kind ladies and gentlemen, and make 000:001;01[' ]| my way as best I may down the path 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| to$4$ the gate, for the last time, in the grey of the morning, and pass out with a nod on 000:001;01[' ]| the hard road and up on the hard path and so go, putting my better foot foremore to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| the best of my abilities, and the dusty uncut privet brushing my cheek, and so on, and 000:001;01[' ]| on, hotter and hotter, weaker and weaker, until someone takes pity on me, or God has 000:001;01[' ]| mercy on me, or better still both, or failing these I fall unable to$9$ rise by the way and 000:001;01[' ]| am taken into custody black with flies by a passing man in blue, leaving you here in 000:001;01[' ]| my place, with before you all I have behind me and all I have before me, haw! all I 000:001;01[' ]| have before me. It was summer. There were three men in the house: the master, 000:001;01[' ]| whom as you well know we call Mr. Knott; a senior retainer named Vincent, I 000:001;01[' ]| believe; and a junior, only in the sense that he was of more recent acquisition, 000:001;01[' ]| named, if I am not mistaken, Walter. The first is here, in his bed, or at least in his 000:001;01[' ]| room. But the second I mean Vincent, is not here any more, and the reason for that 000:001;01[' ]| is this, that when I came in he went out. But the third, I mean Walter, is not here any 000:001;01[' ]| more either, and the reason for that is this, that when Erskine came in he went out, 000:001;01[' ]| just as Vincent went out when I came in. And I, I mean Arsene, am not here any 000:001;01[' ]| more either, and the reason for that is this, that when you came in I went out, just as 000:001;01[' ]| when I came in Vincent went out and as Walter went out when Erskine came in. But 000:001;01[' ]| Erskine, I mean the second last to$9$ come and the next to$9$ go, Erskine is here still, 000:001;01[' ]| sleeping and little dreaming what the new day holds in store, I mean promotion and a 000:001;01[' ]| new face and the end in sight. But another evening shall come and the light die away 000:001;01[' ]| out of the sky and the colour from the earth and the door open on the wind or the rain 000:001;01[' ]| or the sleet or the hail or the snow or the slush or the storm or the warm still scents 000:001;01[' ]| of summer or the still of the ice or the earth awakening or the hush of harvest or the 000:001;01[' ]| leaves falling 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| through the dark from various altitudes, never two coming to$4$ earth at the same time, 000:001;01[' ]| then bowling red and brown and yellow and grey briskly for a instant, yes, through the 000:001;01[' ]| dark, for a instant, then running together in heaps, here a heap, and there a heap, to$9$ be$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| paddled in by happy boys and girls on their way home from school looking forward to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| Hallow-e'en and Guy Fawkes and Christmas and the New Year, haw! yes, happy girls 000:001;01[' ]| and boys looking forward to$4$ the happy New Year, and then perhaps carted off in old 000:001;01[' ]| barrows and used as dung the following spring by the poor, and a man come, shutting 000:001;01[' ]| the door behind him, and Erskine go. And then another night fall and another man come 000:001;01[' ]| and Watt go, Watt who is now come, for the coming is in the shadow of the going and 000:001;01[' ]| the going is in the shadow of the coming, that is the annoying part about it. And yet 000:001;01[' ]| there is one who neither comes nor goes, I refer I need hardly say$1$ to$4$ my late employer, 000:001;01[' ]| but seems to$9$ abide in his place, for the time being at any rate, like a oak, a elm, a 000:001;01[' ]| beech or a ash, to$9$ mention only the oak, the elm, the beech and the ash, and we nest a 000:001;01[' ]| little while in his branches. Yet come he did once, otherwise how would he be$1$ here, and 000:001;01[' ]| go sooner or later I suppose he must, though you would not think it to$9$ look at him. But 000:001;01[' ]| appearances are often deceptive as my poor old mother, heaving a sigh, used to$9$ say$1$ to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| my poor old father (for I am not illegitimate) in my hearing (for they always spoke freely 000:001;01[' ]| before me), a sentiment to$4$ which I can still hear my poor old father, with a sigh, assent, 000:001;01[' ]| saying, Thanks be to$4$ God, a opinion in which in tones that haunt me still my poor old 000:001;01[' ]| mother would acquiesce, sighing, saying, Amen. Or is there a coming that is not a 000:001;01[' ]| coming to$5$, a going that is not a going from, a shadow that is not the shadow of purpose, 000:001;01[' ]| or not? For what is this shadow of the going in which we come, this shadow of the 000:001;01[' ]| coming in which we go, this shadow of the coming 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| and the going in which we wait, if not the shadow of purpose, of the purpose that 000:001;01[' ]| budding withers, that withering buds, whose blooming is a budding withering? I 000:001;01[' ]| speak well, do I not, for a man in my situation? And what is this coming that was not 000:001;01[' ]| our coming and this being that is not our being and this going that will not be$1$ our 000:001;01[' ]| going but the coming and being and going in purposelessness? And though in 000:001;01[' ]| purposelessness I may seem now to$9$ go, yet I do not, any more than in 000:001;01[' ]| purposelessness then I came, for I go now with my purpose as with it then I came, 000:001;01[' ]| the only difference being this, that then it was living and now it is dead, which is 000:001;01[' ]| what you might call what I think the English call six of one and half a dozen of the 000:001;01[' ]| other, do they not, might you not? Or do I confuse them with the Irish? But to$9$ return 000:001;01[' ]| to$4$ Vincent and Walter, they were very much your height, breadth and width, that is 000:001;01[' ]| to$9$ say$1$ big bony shabby seedy haggard knock-kneed men, with rotten teeth and big 000:001;01[' ]| red noses, the result of too much solitude they used to$9$ say$1$, just as I am very much 000:001;01[' ]| Erskine's and Erskine very much mine, that is to$9$ say$1$ little fat shabby seedy juicy or 000:001;01[' ]| oily bandy-legged men, with a little fat bottom sticking out in front and a little fat 000:001;01[' ]| belly sticking out behind, for what would a little fat bottom sticking out in front be$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| without a little fat belly sticking out behind? For though it is rumoured that Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Knott would prefer to$9$ have$1$ no one at all about him, to$9$ look after him, yet since he is 000:001;01[' ]| obliged to$9$ have$1$ someone at all about him, to$9$ look after him, being quite incapable of 000:001;01[' ]| looking after himself, then the suggestion is that what he likes best is the minimum 000:001;01[' ]| number of small fat shabby seedy juicy bandy-legged pot-bellied pot-bottomed men 000:001;01[' ]| about him, to$9$ look after him, or, failing this, the fewest possible big bony seedy 000:001;01[' ]| shabby haggard knock-kneed rotten-toothed red-nosed men about him, to$9$ take care of 000:001;01[' ]| him, thought at the same time it is freely hinted that in default 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| of either of these he would be$1$ perfectly content to$9$ have$1$ men of quite a different stamp or 000:001;01[' ]| mould about him, as unlike physically you and Vincent and Walter as Erskine and me, if 000:001;01[' ]| that is conceivable, to$9$ fuss over him, as long as they were seedy and shabby and few in 000:001;01[' ]| number, for to$4$ seediness and shabbiness and fewness in number he is greatly attached, if 000:001;01[' ]| he can be$1$ said to$9$ be$1$ greatly attached to$4$ anything, though I have heard it confidently 000:001;01[' ]| asserted that if he could not have$1$ seediness and shabbiness and fewness in number he 000:001;01[' ]| would be$1$ only too delighted to$9$ do$1$ without them, about him, to$9$ make much of him. But 000:001;01[' ]| that he has never had any but on the one hand big bony seedy shabby haggard 000:001;01[' ]| knock-kneed rotten-toothed red-nosed men like you and on the other small fat seedy 000:001;01[' ]| shabby juicy or oily bandy-legged pot-bellied pot-bottomed men like me, about him, to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| attend to$4$ him, seems certain, unless it be so long ago that all trace of them is lost. For 000:001;01[' ]| Vincent and Walter were not the first, ho no, but before them were Vincent and 000:001;01[' ]| another whose name I forget, and before them that other whose name I forget and 000:001;01[' ]| another whose name I also forget, and before them that other whose name I also forget 000:001;01[' ]| and another whose name I never knew, and before them that other whose name I never 000:001;01[' ]| knew and another whose name Walter could not recall, and before them that other 000:001;01[' ]| whose name Walter could not recall and another whose name Walter could not recall 000:001;01[' ]| either, and before them that other whose name Walter could not recall either and 000:001;01[' ]| another whose name W alter never knew, and before them that other whose name 000:001;01[' ]| Walter never knew and another whose name even Vincent could not call to$4$ mind, and 000:001;01[' ]| before them that other whose name even Vincent could not call to$4$ mind and another 000:001;01[' ]| whose name even Vincent could not call to$4$ mind either, and before them that other 000:001;01[' ]| whose name even Vincent could not call to$4$ mind either and another whose name 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| even Vincent never knew, and so on, until all trace is lost, owing to$4$ the shortness of 000:001;01[' ]| human memory, one always ousting the other, though perhaps ousting is not the 000:001;01[' ]| word, just as you ousted me, and Erskine Walter, and I Vincent, and Walter that 000:001;01[' ]| other whose name I forget, and Vincent that other whose name I also forget, and that 000:001;01[' ]| other whose name I forget that other whose name I never knew, and that other whose 000:001;01[' ]| name I also forget that other whose name Walter could not recall, and that other 000:001;01[' ]| whose name I never knew that other whose name Walter could not recall either, 000:001;01[' ]| and that other whose name Walter could not recall that other whose name Walter 000:001;01[' ]| never knew, and that other whose name Walter could not recall either that other 000:001;01[' ]| whose name even Vincent could not call to$4$ mind, and that other whose name Walter 000:001;01[' ]| never knew that other whose name even Vincent could not call to$4$ mind either, and 000:001;01[' ]| that other whose name even Vincent could not call to$4$ mind that other whose name 000:001;01[' ]| even Vincent never knew, and so on, until all trace is lost, on account of the vanity of 000:001;01[' ]| human wishes. But that all those of whom all trace is not lost, even though their 000:001;01[' ]| names be forgotten, were, if not big, bony, seedy, shabby, haggard knock-kneed, 000:001;01[' ]| rotten-toothed and red-nosed, at least small, fat, seedy, shabby, oily, bandy-legged, 000:001;01[' ]| pot-bellied and pot-bottomed, seems certain, if any reliance is to$9$ be$1$ placed on oral 000:001;01[' ]| tradition as handed down by word of mouth from one fleeting generation to$4$ the next, 000:001;01[' ]| or, as is more usual, to$4$ the next but one. This, if it does not prove beyond all manner 000:001;01[' ]| of doubt that of all those of whom all trace is lost not one was a body quite different 000:001;01[' ]| from us, does tend to$9$ support the hypothesis so often emitted that there is something 000:001;01[' ]| about Mr. Knott that draws towards him, to$9$ be$1$ about him and take care of him, two 000:001;01[' ]| types of men, and two only, on the one hand the big bony seedy shabby haggard 000:001;01[' ]| knock-kneed type, with the decayed teeth 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| and the big red nose, and on the other the small fat seedy shabby oily or juicy 000:001;01[' ]| bandy-legged type, with the little fat bottom and belly sticking out in opposite 000:001;01[' ]| directions, or, alternatively, that there is something in these two types of men that 000:001;01[' ]| draw them to$4$ Mr. Knott, to$9$ be$1$ about him and watch over him, though at the same 000:001;01[' ]| time it is quite possible that if we were in a position to$9$ examine the skeleton of one 000:001;01[' ]| of those of whom not only the name but all trace is lost, of him for example whose 000:001;01[' ]| name even that other whose name even Vincent (if that was his name) never knew 000:001;01[' ]| never knew, we might find him to$9$ have$1$ been quite a different type of chap, neither 000:001;01[' ]| big nor small, bony nor fat, seedy nor shabby, haggard nor juicy, rotten-toothed nor 000:001;01[' ]| pot-bellied, red-nosed nor pot-bottomed, quite quite possible, if not quite quite 000:001;01[' ]| probable. Now though I knew at the outset that I should not have$1$ the time to$9$ go into 000:001;01[' ]| these matters as fully as I should wish, or they deserve, yet I felt, perhaps wrongly, 000:001;01[' ]| that it was my duty to$9$ mention them, if only in order for you clearly to$9$ understand 000:001;01[' ]| that about Mr. Knott, attentive to$4$ his wants, if speaking of Mr. Knott one may speak 000:001;01[' ]| of wants, two men and so far as we know never more and never fewer have always 000:001;01[' ]| been to$9$ be$1$ found, and that of these two it is not always necessary, as far as we can 000:001;01[' ]| judge, that one should be$1$ bony and so on, and the other fat and so forth, as is now the 000:001;01[' ]| case with you and Arsene. forgive me, with you and Erskine, for both may be$1$ bony 000:001;01[' ]| and so on, as was the case with Vincent and Walter, or both may be$1$ fat and so forth, 000:001;01[' ]| as was the case with Erskine and me, but that it is necessary, as fix as can be$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| ascertained, that of these two men for ever about Mr. Knott in tireless assiduity 000:001;01[' ]| turning, the one or the other or both should be$1$ either bony and so on 000:001;01[' ]| or fat and so forth, though if we could go back in pure time as easily as we can in 000:001;01[' ]| pure space the possibility, if not the probability, is not excluded of our finding two 000:001;01[' ]| or less than two or 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| even more than two men or women or men and women as little bony and so on as fat 000:001;01[' ]| and so forth eternally turning about Mr. Knott in tireless love. But to$9$ go into this matter 000:001;01[' ]| as longly and as deeply and as fully as I should like, and it deserves, is unfortunately out 000:001;01[' ]| of the question. Not that space is wanting, for space is not wanting. Not that time is 000:001;01[' ]| lacking, for time is not lacking. But I hear a little wind come and go, come and go, in the 000:001;01[' ]| bushes without, and in the hen-house the cock in his sleep uneasily stirs. And I think I 000:001;01[' ]| have said enough to$9$ light that fire in your mind that shall never be$1$ snuffed, or only with 000:001;01[' ]| the utmost difficulty, just as Vincent did for me, and Walter for Erskine, and as you 000:001;01[' ]| perhaps will do$1$ for another, though that is not certain, to$9$ judge by the look of you. Not 000:001;01[' ]| that I have told you all I know, for I have not, being now a good-natured man, and 000:001;01[' ]| of good will what is more, and indulgent towards the dreams of middle age, which were 000:001;01[' ]| my dreams, just as Vincent did not tell me all, nor Walter Erskine, nor the others the 000:001;01[' ]| others, for here we all seem to$9$ end by being good-natured men, and of good will, and 000:001;01[' ]| indulgent towards the dreams of middle age, which were our dreams, whatever may 000:001;01[' ]| escape us now and then in the way of bitter and I blush to$9$ say$1$ even blasphemous words 000:001;01[' ]| and expressions, and perhaps also because what we know partakes in no small measure 000:001;01[' ]| of the nature of what has so happily been called the unutterable or ineffable, so that any 000:001;01[' ]| attempt to$9$ utter or eff it is doomed to$9$ fail, doomed, doomed to$9$ fail. Why even I myself, 000:001;01[' ]| strolling all alone in some hard earned suspension of labour in this charming garden, 000:001;01[' ]| have tried and tried to$9$ formulate this delicious haw! and I may add quite useless wisdom 000:001;01[' ]| so dearly won, and with which I am so to$9$ speak from the crown of my head to$4$ the soles 000:001;01[' ]| of my feet imbued, so that I neither eat nor drink nor breathe in and out nor do my 000:001;01[' ]| dooodles but more sagaciously than before, like Theseus 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| kissing Ariadne, or Ariadne Theseus, towards the end, on the seashore, and tried in 000:001;01[' ]| vain, notwithstanding the beauties of the scene, bower and sward, glade and arbour, 000:001;01[' ]| sunshine and shadow, and the pleasant dawdling motion carrying me about in the 000:001;01[' ]| midst of them, hither and thither, with unparalleled sagacity. But what I could say$1$, or 000:001;01[' ]| at least a part, and I trust not the least diverting, I think I have said, and as far as it 000:001;01[' ]| lay in my power to$9$ take you, under the circumstances, I think I have taken you, all 000:001;01[' ]| things considered. And now for a little along the way that lies between you and me 000:001;01[' ]| Erskine will go by your side, to$9$ be$1$ your guide, and then for the rest you will travel 000:001;01[' ]| alone, or with only shades to$9$ keep you company, and that I think you will find, if 000:001;01[' ]| your experience at all resembles mine, the best part of the outing or at least the least 000:001;01[' ]| dull, even though the light falls fast, and far below the stumbling feet. Now for what 000:001;01[' ]| I have said ill and for what I have said well and for what I have not said, I ask you to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| forgive me. And for what I have done ill and for what I have done well and for what I 000:001;01[' ]| have left undone, I ask you also to$9$ forgive me. And I ask you to$9$ think of me always 000:001;01[' ]| ~~ bugger these buttons ~~ with forgiveness, as you desire to$9$ be$1$ thought of with 000:001;01[' ]| forgiveness, though personally of course it is all the same to$4$ me whether I am 000:001;01[' ]| thought of with forgiveness, or with rancour, or not at all. Good night. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But he had not been long gone when he appeared again, to$4$ Watt. He stood sideways 000:001;01[' ]| in the kitchen doorway, looking at Watt, and Watt saw the house-door open behind 000:001;01[' ]| him and the dark bushes and above them at a great distance something that lie 000:001;01[' ]| thought was perhaps the day again already. And as Watt fixed his eyes on what he 000:001;01[' ]| thought was perhaps the day again already, the man standing sideways in the kitchen 000:001;01[' ]| doorway looking at him became two men standing sideways in two kitchen doorways 000:001;01[' ]| looking at him. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But Watt, catching up his hat, held it before the lamp, that he might the better decide 000:001;01[' ]| whether what he saw, through the house-door, was really the day again already, or 000:001;01[' ]| whether it was not. But even as he looked it was effaced, not abruptly, no, and not 000:001;01[' ]| gently either, but by a firm unhurried hand, wiped away. Then Watt did not know 000:001;01[' ]| what to$9$ think. So turning towards the lamp he drew it towards him, and turned down 000:001;01[' ]| the wick, and blew down the chimney, until it was quite extinguished. But even then 000:001;01[' ]| he was no whit better off than before. For if it was really day again already, in some 000:001;01[' ]| low distant quarter of the sky, it was not yet day again already in the kitchen. But that 000:001;01[' ]| would come, Watt knew that would come, with patience it would come, little by 000:001;01[' ]| little, whether he liked it or not, over the yard wall, and through the window, first the 000:001;01[' ]| grey, then the brighter colours one by one, until getting on to$4$ 9 a.m. all the gold and 000:001;01[' ]| white and blue would fill the kitchen, all the unsoiled light of the new day, of the 000:001;01[' ]| new day at last, the day without precedent at last. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| MR. KNOTT was a good master, in a way. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt had no direct dealings with Mr. Knott, at this period. Not that Watt was ever to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| have$1$ any direct dealings with Mr. Knott, for he was not. But he thought, at this 000:001;01[' ]| period, that the time would come when he would have$1$ direct dealings with Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Knott, on the first-floor. Yes, he thought that time would come for him, as he thought 000:001;01[' ]| it had ended for Arsene, and for Erskine just begun. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| For the moment all Watt's work was on the ground-floor. Even the first-floor slops 000:001;01[' ]| that he emptied, it was Erskine who carried them down, every morning, in a pail. 000:001;01[' ]| The first-floor slops could have$1$ been emptied, quite as conveniently, if not more 000:001;01[' ]| conveniently, and the pail rinsed, on the first-floor, but they never were, for reasons 000:001;01[' ]| that are not known. It is true that Watt had instructions to$9$ empty these slops, not in 000:001;01[' ]| the way that slops are usually emptied, no, but in the garden, before sunrise, or after 000:001;01[' ]| sunset, on the violet bed in violet time, and on the pansy bed in pansy time, and on 000:001;01[' ]| the rose bed in rose time, and on the celery banks in celery time, and on the seakale 000:001;01[' ]| pits in seakale time, and in the tomato house in tomato time, and so on, always in the 000:001;01[' ]| garden, in the flower garden, and in the vegetable garden, and in the fruit garden, on 000:001;01[' ]| some young growing thirsty thing at the moment of its most need, except of course in 000:001;01[' ]| time of frost, or when the snow was on the ground, or when the water was on the 000:001;01[' ]| ground. Then his instructions were to$9$ empty the slops on the dunghill. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But Watt was not so foolish as to$9$ suppose that this was 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| the real reason why Mr. Knott's slops were not emptied away on the first-floor, as 000:001;01[' ]| they could so easily have$1$ been. This was merely the reason offered to$4$ the 000:001;01[' ]| understanding. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| It was remarkable that no such instructions existed touching the second-floor slops, 000:001;01[' ]| that is to$9$ say$1$, Watt's slops and Erskine's slops. These, when they had been carried 000:001;01[' ]| down, Erskine's by Erskine, and Watt's by Watt, Watt was free to$9$ dispose of as he 000:001;01[' ]| pleased. But he was given nevertheless to$9$ understand that their commixture with 000:001;01[' ]| those of the first-floor, if not formally forbidden, was not encouraged. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| So Watt saw little of Mr. Knott. For Mr. Knott was seldom on the ground-floor, 000:001;01[' ]| unless it was to$9$ eat a meal, in the dining-room, or to$9$ pass through it, on his way to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| and from the garden. And Watt was seldom on the first-floor, unless it was when he 000:001;01[' ]| came down to$9$ begin his day, in the morning, and then again at evening, when he 000:001;01[' ]| went up to$9$ begin his night. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Even in the dining-room Watt did not see Mr. Knott, although Watt was responsible 000:001;01[' ]| for the dining-room, and for the service there of Mr. Knott's meals. The reasons for 000:001;01[' ]| this may appear when the time comes to$9$ treat of that complex and delicate matter, 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Knott's food. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| This is not to$9$ say$1$ that Watt never saw Mr. Knott at this period, for he did, to$9$ be$1$ sure. 000:001;01[' ]| He saw him from time to$4$ time, passing through the ground-floor on his way to$4$ the 000:001;01[' ]| garden from his quarters on the first-floor, and on his way back from the garden to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| his quarters, and he saw him also in the garden itself. But these rare appearances of 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Knott, and the strange impression they made on Watt, will be$1$ described please 000:001;01[' ]| God at greater length, at another time. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Callers were few. Tradesmen called, of course, and beggars, and hawkers. The 000:001;01[' ]| postman, a charming man, called Severn, a great dancer and lover of greyhounds, 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| seldom called. But he did sometimes, always in the evening, with his light eager step 000:001;01[' ]| and his dog by his side, to$9$ deliver a bill, or a begging letter. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The telephone seldom rang, and when it did it was about some indifferent matter 000:001;01[' ]| touching the plumbing, or the roof, or the food supplies, that Erskine could deal with, 000:001;01[' ]| or even Watt, without troubling their master. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Knott saw nobody, heard from nobody, as far as Watt could see. But Watt was 000:001;01[' ]| not so foolish as to$9$ draw any conclusion from this. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But these fleeting acknowledgements of Mr. Knott's establishment, like little 000:001;01[' ]| splashes on it from the outer world and without which it would have$1$ been hard set to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| keep going, will it is to$9$ be$1$ hoped be$1$ considered in greater detail, later on, and how 000:001;01[' ]| some were of moment to$4$ Watt, and how some were of none. In particular the 000:001;01[' ]| appearance of the gardener, a Mr. Graves, at the back door, twice and even three 000:001;01[' ]| times every day, should be$1$ gone into with the utmost care, though there is little 000:001;01[' ]| likelihood of its shedding any light on Mr. Knott, or on Watt, or on Mr. Graves. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But even there where there was no light for Watt, where there is none for his 000:001;01[' ]| mouthpiece, there may be$1$ light for others. Or was there perhaps some light for Watt, 000:001;01[' ]| on Mr. Knott, on Watt, in such relations as those with Mr. Graves, or with the 000:001;01[' ]| fishwoman, that he left unspoken. That is by no means impossible. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Knott never left the grounds, as far as Watt could judge. Watt thought it unlikely 000:001;01[' ]| that Mr. Knott could leave the grounds, without its coming to$4$ his notice. But he did 000:001;01[' ]| not reject the possibility of Mr. Knott's leaving the grounds, without his being any the 000:001;01[' ]| wiser. But the unlikelihood, on the one hand of Mr. Knott's leaving the grounds, and 000:001;01[' ]| on the other of his doing so without exciting the general comment, seemed very 000:001;01[' ]| great, to$4$ Watt. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| On only one occasion, during Watt's period of service on the ground-floor, was the 000:001;01[' ]| threshold crossed by a stranger, by other feet that is than Mr. Knott's, or Erskine's, or 000:001;01[' ]| Watt's, for all were strangers to$4$ Mr. Knott's establishment, as far as Watt could see, 000:001;01[' ]| with the exception of Mr. Knott himself, and his personnel at any given moment. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| This fugitive penetration took place shortly after Watt's arrival. On his answering the 000:001;01[' ]| door, as his habit was, when there was a knock at the door, he found standing before 000:001;01[' ]| it, or so he realized later, arm in arm, a old man and a middle-aged man. The latter 000:001;01[' ]| said: 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| We are the Galls, father and son, and we are come, what is more, all the way from 000:001;01[' ]| town, to$9$ choon the piano. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| They were two, and they stood, arm in arm, in this way, because the father was blind, 000:001;01[' ]| like so many members of his profession. For if the father had not been blind, then he 000:001;01[' ]| would not have$1$ needed his son to$9$ hold his arm, and guide him on his rounds, no, but 000:001;01[' ]| he would have$1$ set his son free, to$9$ go about his own business. So Watt supposed, 000:001;01[' ]| though there was nothing in the father's face to$9$ show that he was blind, nor in his 000:001;01[' ]| attitude either, except that he leaned on his son in a way expressive of a great need of 000:001;01[' ]| support. But lie might have$1$ done this, if he had been halt, or merely tired, on account 000:001;01[' ]| of his great age. There was no family likeness between the two, as far as Watt could 000:001;01[' ]| make out, and nevertheless he knew that he was in the presence of a father and son, 000:001;01[' ]| for had he not just been told so. Or were they not perhaps merely stepfather and 000:001;01[' ]| stepson. We are the Galls, stepfather and stepson-those were perhaps the words that 000:001;01[' ]| should have$1$ been spoken. But it was natural to$9$ prefer the others. Not that they could 000:001;01[' ]| not very well be$1$ a true father and son, without resembling each other in the very 000:001;01[' ]| least, for they could. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| How very fortunate for Mr. Gall, said Watt, that he has 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| his son at his command, whose manner is all devotion and whose mere presence, 000:001;01[' ]| when he might obviously be$1$ earning a honest penny elsewhere, attests a affliction 000:001;01[' ]| characteristic of the best tuners, and justifies emoluments rather higher than the 000:001;01[' ]| usual. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| When he had led them to$4$ the music-room, and left them there, Watt wondered if he 000:001;01[' ]| had done right. He felt he had done right, but he was not sure. Should he not perhaps 000:001;01[' ]| rather have$1$ sent them flying about their business? Watt's feeling was that anyone 000:001;01[' ]| who demanded, with such tranquil assurance, to$9$ be$1$ admitted to$4$ Mr. Knott's house, 000:001;01[' ]| deserved to$9$ be$1$ admitted, in the absence of precise instructions to$4$ the contrary. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The music-room was a large bare white room. The piano was in the window. The 000:001;01[' ]| head, and neck, in plaster, very white, of Buxtehude, was on the mantelpiece. A 000:001;01[' ]| ravanastron hung, on the wall, from a nail, like a plover. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| After a short time Watt returned to$4$ the music-room, with a tray, of refreshments. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Not Mr. Gall Senior, but Mr. Gall junior, was tuning the piano, to$4$ Watt's great 000:001;01[' ]| surprise. Mr. Gall Senior was standing in the middle of the room, perhaps listening. 000:001;01[' ]| Watt did not take this to$9$ mean that Mr. Gall junior was the true piano-tuner, and Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Gall Senior simply a poor blind old man, hired for the occasion, no. But he took it 000:001;01[' ]| rather to$9$ mean that Mr. Gall Senior, feeling his end at hand, and anxious that his son 000:001;01[' ]| should follow in his footsteps, was putting the finishing touches to$4$ a hasty 000:001;01[' ]| instruction, before it was too late. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| While Watt looked round, for a place to$9$ set down his tray, Mr. Gall junior brought 000:001;01[' ]| his work to$4$ a close. He reassembled the piano case, put back his tools in their bag, 000:001;01[' ]| and stood up. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The mice have$1$ returned, he said. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The elder said nothing. Watt wondered if he had heard. Nine dampers remain, said 000:001;01[' ]| the younger, and a equal number of hammers. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Not corresponding, I hope, said the elder. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| In one case, said the younger. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The elder had nothing to$9$ say$1$ to$4$ this. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The strings are in flitters, said the younger. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The elder had nothing to$9$ say$1$ to$4$ this either. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The piano is doomed, in my opinion, said the younger. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The piano-tuner also, said the elder. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The pianist also, said the younger. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| This was perhaps the principal incident of Watt's early days in Mr. Knott's house. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| In a sense it resembled all the incidents of note proposed to$4$ Watt during his stay in 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Knott's house, and of which a certain number will be$1$ recorded in this place, 000:001;01[' ]| without addition, or subtraction, and in a sense not. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| It resembled them in the sense that it was not ended, when it was past, but continued 000:001;01[' ]| to$9$ unfold, in Watt's head, from beginning to$4$ end, over and over again, the complex 000:001;01[' ]| connexions of its lights and shadows, the passing from silence to$4$ sound and from 000:001;01[' ]| sound to$4$ silence, the stillness before the movement and the stillness after, the 000:001;01[' ]| quickenings and retardings, the approaches and the separations, all the shifting detail 000:001;01[' ]| of its march and ordinance, according to$4$ the irrevocable caprice of its taking place. It 000:001;01[' ]| resembled them in the vigour with which it developed a purely plastic content, and 000:001;01[' ]| gradually lost, in the nice processes of its light, its sound, its impacts and its rhythm, 000:001;01[' ]| all meaning, even the most literal. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Thus the scene in the music-room, with the two Galls, ceased very soon to$9$ signify for 000:001;01[' ]| Watt a piano tuned, a obscure family and professional relation, a exchange of 000:001;01[' ]| judgments more or less intelligible, and so on, if indeed it 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| had ever signified such things, and became a mere example of light commenting bodies, 000:001;01[' ]| and stillness motion, and silence sound, and comment comment. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| This fragility of the outer meaning had a bad effect on Watt, for it caused him to$9$ seek 000:001;01[' ]| for another, for some meaning of what had passed, in the image of how it had passed. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The most meagre, the least plausible, would have$1$ satisfied Watt, who had not seen a 000:001;01[' ]| symbol, nor executed a interpretation, since the age of fourteen, or fifteen, and who 000:001;01[' ]| had lived, miserably it is true, among face values all his adult life, face values at least 000:001;01[' ]| for him. Some see the flesh before the bones, and some see the bones before the flesh, 000:001;01[' ]| and some never see the bones at all, and some never see the flesh at all, never never see 000:001;01[' ]| the flesh at all. But whatever it was Watt saw, with the first look, that was enough for 000:001;01[' ]| Watt, that had always been enough for Watt, more than enough for Watt. And he had 000:001;01[' ]| experienced literally nothing, since the age of fourteen, or fifteen, of which in retrospect 000:001;01[' ]| he was not content to$9$ say$1$, That is what happened then. He could recall, not indeed with 000:001;01[' ]| any satisfaction, but as ordinary occasions, the time when his dead father appeared to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| him in a wood, with his trousers rolled up over his knees and his shoes and socks in his 000:001;01[' ]| hand; or the time when in his surprise at hearing a voice urging him, in terms of unusual 000:001;01[' ]| coarseness, to$9$ do$1$ away with himself, he narrowly escaped being knocked down, by a 000:001;01[' ]| dray; or the time when alone in a rowing-boat, far from land, he suddenly smelt 000:001;01[' ]| flowering currant; or the time when a old lady of delicate upbringing, and 000:001;01[' ]| advantageous person, for she was amputated well above the knee, whom he had pursued 000:001;01[' ]| with his assiduities on no fewer than three distinct occasions, unstrapped her$2$ wooden 000:001;01[' ]| leg, and laid aside her$2$ crutch. Here no tendency appeared, on the part of his father's 000:001;01[' ]| trousers, for example, to$9$ break up into a arrangement of appearances, 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| grey, flaccid and probably fistular, or of his father's legs to$9$ vanish in the farce of their 000:001;01[' ]| properties, no, but his father's legs and trousers, as then seen, in the wood, and 000:001;01[' ]| subsequently brought to$4$ mind, remained legs and trousers, and not only legs and 000:001;01[' ]| trousers, but his father's legs and trousers, that is to$9$ say$1$ quite different from any of 000:001;01[' ]| the legs and trousers that Watt had ever seen, and he had seen a great quantity, both 000:001;01[' ]| of legs and of trousers, in his time. The incident of the Galls, on the contrary, ceased 000:001;01[' ]| so rapidly to$9$ have$1$ even the paltry significance of two men, come to$9$ tune a piano, and 000:001;01[' ]| tuning it, and exchanging a few words, as men will do$1$, and going, that this seemed 000:001;01[' ]| rather to$9$ belong to$4$ some story heard long before, a instant in the life of another, 000:001;01[' ]| ill-told, ill-heard, and more than half forgotten. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| So Watt did not know what had happened. He did not care, to$9$ do$1$ him justice, what 000:001;01[' ]| had happened. But he felt the need to$9$ think that such and such a thing had happened 000:001;01[' ]| then, the need to$9$ be$1$ able to$9$ say$1$, when the scene began to$9$ unroll Its sequences, Yes, I 000:001;01[' ]| remember, that is what happened then. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| This need remained with Watt, this need not always satisfied, during the greater part 000:001;01[' ]| of his stay in Mr. Knott's house. For the incident of the Galls father and son was 000:001;01[' ]| followed by others of a similar kind, incidents that is to$9$ say$1$ of great formal brilliance 000:001;01[' ]| and indeterminable purport. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt's stay in Mr. Knott's house was less agreeable, on this account, than it would 000:001;01[' ]| have$1$ been, if such incidents had been unknown, or his attitude towards them less 000:001;01[' ]| anxious, that is to$9$ say$1$, if Mr. Knott's house had been another house, or Watt another 000:001;01[' ]| man. For outside Mr. Knott's house, and of course grounds, such incidents were 000:001;01[' ]| unknown, or so Watt supposed. And Watt could not accept them for what they 000:001;01[' ]| perhaps were, the simple games that time plays with space, now with these toys, and 000:001;01[' ]| now with those, but 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| was obliged, because of his peculiar character, to$9$ enquire into what they meant, oh 000:001;01[' ]| not into what they really meant, his character was not so peculiar as all that, but into 000:001;01[' ]| what they might be$1$ induced to$9$ mean, with the help of a little patience, a little 000:001;01[' ]| ingenuity. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But what was this pursuit of meaning, in this indifference to$4$ meaning? And to$4$ what 000:001;01[' ]| did it tend? These are delicate questions. For when Watt at last spoke of this time, it 000:001;01[' ]| was a time long past, and of which his recollections were, in a sense, perhaps less 000:001;01[' ]| clear than he would have$1$ wished, though too clear for his liking, in another. Add to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| this the notorious difficulty of recapturing, at will, modes of feeling peculiar to$4$ a 000:001;01[' ]| certain time, and to$4$ a certain place, and perhaps also to$4$ a certain state of the health, 000:001;01[' ]| when the time is past, and the place left, and the body struggling with quite a new 000:001;01[' ]| situation. Add to$4$ this the obscurity of Watt's communications, the rapidity of his 000:001;01[' ]| utterance and the eccentricities of his syntax, as elsewhere recorded. Add to$4$ this the 000:001;01[' ]| material conditions in which these communications were made. Add to$4$ this the scant 000:001;01[' ]| aptitude to$9$ receive of him to$4$ whom they were proposed. Add to$4$ this the scant 000:001;01[' ]| aptitude to$9$ give of him to$4$ whom they were committed. And some idea will perhaps 000:001;01[' ]| be$1$ obtained of the difficulties experienced in formulating, not only such matters as 000:001;01[' ]| those here in question, but the entire body of Watt's experience, from the moment of 000:001;01[' ]| his entering Mr. Knott's establishment to$4$ the moment of his leaving it. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But before passing from the Galls father and son to$4$ matters less litigious, or less 000:001;01[' ]| tediously litigious, it seems advisable that the little that is known, on this subject, 000:001;01[' ]| should be$1$ said. For the incident of the Galls father and son was the first and type of 000:001;01[' ]| many. And the little that is known about it has not yet all been said. Much has been 000:001;01[' ]| said, but not all. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Not that many things remain to$9$ be$1$ said, on the subject of the Galls father and son, for 000:001;01[' ]| they do not. For only three or four things remain to$9$ be$1$ said, in this connexion. And three 000:001;01[' ]| or four things are not really many, in comparison with the number of things that might 000:001;01[' ]| have$1$ been known, and said, on this subject, and now never shall. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| What distressed Watt in this incident of the Galls father and son, and in subsequent 000:001;01[' ]| similar incidents, was not so much that he did not know what had happened, for he did 000:001;01[' ]| not care what had happened, as that nothing had happened, that a thing that was nothing 000:001;01[' ]| had happened, with the utmost formal distinctness, and that it continued to$9$ happen, in 000:001;01[' ]| his mind, he supposed, though he did not know exactly what that meant, and though it 000:001;01[' ]| seemed to$9$ be$1$ outside him, before him, about him, and so on, inexorably to$9$ unroll its 000:001;01[' ]| phases, beginning with the first (the knock that was not a knock) and ending with the 000:001;01[' ]| last (the door closing that was not a door closing), and omitting none, uninvoked, at the 000:001;01[' ]| most unexpected moments, and the most inopportune. Yes, Watt could not accept, as no 000:001;01[' ]| doubt Erskine could not accept, and as no doubt Arsene and Walter and Vincent and the 000:001;01[' ]| others had been unable to$9$ accept, that nothing had happened, with all the clarity and 000:001;01[' ]| solidity of something, and that it revisited him in such a way that he was forced to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| submit to$4$ it all over again, to$9$ hear the same sounds, see the same lights, touch the same 000:001;01[' ]| surfaces, and so on, as when they had first involved him in their unintelligible 000:001;01[' ]| intricacies. If he had been able to$9$ accept it, then perhaps it would not have$1$ revisited him, 000:001;01[' ]| and this would have$1$ been a great saving of vexation, to$9$ put it mildly. But he could not 000:001;01[' ]| accept it, could not bear it. One wonders sometimes where Watt thought he was. In a 000:001;01[' ]| culture-park? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But if he could say$1$, when the knock came, the knock become a knock, on the door 000:001;01[' ]| become a door, in his mind, 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| presumably in his mind, whatever that might mean, Yes, I remember, that is what 000:001;01[' ]| happened then, if then he could say$1$ that, then he thought that then the scene would 000:001;01[' ]| end, and trouble him no more, as the appearance of his father with his trousers rolled 000:001;01[' ]| up and his shoes and socks in his hands troubled him no more, because he could say$1$, 000:001;01[' ]| when it began, Yes, yes, I remember, that was when my father appeared to$4$ me, in the 000:001;01[' ]| wood, dressed for wading. But to$9$ elicit something from nothing requires a certain 000:001;01[' ]| skill and Watt was not always successful, in his efforts to$9$ do$1$ so. Not that he was 000:001;01[' ]| always unsuccessful either, for he was not. For if he had been always unsuccessful, 000:001;01[' ]| how would it have$1$ been possible for him to$9$ speak of the Galls father and son, and of 000:001;01[' ]| the piano they had come all the way from town to$9$ tune, and of their tuning it, and of 000:001;01[' ]| their passing the remarks they had passed, the one to$4$ the other, in the way he did? 000:001;01[' ]| No, he could never have$1$ spoken at all of these things, if all had continued to$9$ mean 000:001;01[' ]| nothing, as some continued to$9$ mean nothing, that is to$9$ say$1$, right up to$4$ the end. For 000:001;01[' ]| the only way one can speak of nothing is to$9$ speak of it as though it were something, 000:001;01[' ]| just as the only way one can speak of God is to$9$ speak of him as though he were a 000:001;01[' ]| man, which to$9$ be$1$ sure he was, in a sense, for a time, and as the only way one can 000:001;01[' ]| speak of man, even our anthropologists have realized that, is to$9$ speak of him as 000:001;01[' ]| though he were a termite. But if Watt was sometimes unsuccessful, and sometimes 000:001;01[' ]| successful, as in the affair of the Galls father and son, in foisting a meaning there 000:001;01[' ]| where no meaning appeared, he was most often neither the one, nor the other. For 000:001;01[' ]| Watt considered, with reason, that he was successful, in this enterprise, when he 000:001;01[' ]| could evolve, from the meticulous phantoms that beset him, a hypothesis proper to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| disperse them, as often as this might be$1$ found necessary. There was nothing, in this 000:001;01[' ]| operation, at variance with Watt's habits of mind. For to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| explain had always been to$9$ exorcize, for Watt. And he considered that he was 000:001;01[' ]| unsuccessful, when he failed to$9$ do$1$ so. And he considered that he was neither wholly 000:001;01[' ]| successful, nor wholly unsuccessful, when the hypothesis evolved lost 000:001;01[' ]| its virtue, after one or two applications, and had to$9$ be$1$ replaced by another, which in 000:001;01[' ]| its turn had to$9$ be$1$ replaced by another, which in due course ceased to$9$ be$1$ of the least 000:001;01[' ]| assistance, and so on. And that is what happened, in the majority of cases. Now to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| give examples of Watt's failures, and of Watt's successes, and of Watt's partial 000:001;01[' ]| successes, in this connexion, is so to$9$ speak impossible. For when he speaks, for 000:001;01[' ]| example, of the incident of the Galls father and son, does he speak of it in terms of 000:001;01[' ]| the unique hypothesis that was required, to$9$ deal with it, and render it innocuous, 000:001;01[' ]| or in terms of the latest, or in terms of some other of the series? For when Watt spoke 000:001;01[' ]| of a incident of this kind, he did not necessarily do$1$ so in terms of the unique hypo 000:001;01[' ]| thesis, or of the latest, though this at first sight seems the only possible alternative, 000:001;01[' ]| and the reason why he did not, why it is not, is this, that when one of the series of 000:001;01[' ]| hypotheses, with which Watt laboured to$9$ preserve his peace of mind, lost its virtue, 000:001;01[' ]| and had to$9$ be$1$ laid aside, and another set up in its place, then it sometimes happened 000:001;01[' ]| that the hypothesis in question, after a sufficient period of rest, recovered its virtue 000:001;01[' ]| and could be$1$ made to$9$ serve again, in the place of another, whose usefulness had 000:001;01[' ]| come to$4$ a end, for the time being at least. To$4$ such a extent is this true, 000:001;01[' ]| that one is sometimes tempted to$9$ wonder, with reference to$4$ two or even three 000:001;01[' ]| incidents related by Watt as separate and distinct, if they are not in reality the same 000:001;01[' ]| incident, variously interpreted. As to$4$ giving a example of the second 000:001;01[' ]| event, namely the failure, that is clearly quite out of the question. For there we have 000:001;01[' ]| to$9$ do$1$ with events that resisted all Watt's efforts to$9$ saddle them with meaning, and a 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| formula, so that he could neither think of them, nor speak of them, but only suffer them, 000:001;01[' ]| when they recurred, though it seems probable that they recurred no more, at the period 000:001;01[' ]| of Watt's revelation, to$4$ me, but were as though they had never been. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Finally, to$9$ return to$4$ the incident of the Galls father and son, as related by Watt, did it 000:001;01[' ]| have$1$ that meaning for Watt at the time of its taking place, and then lose that meaning, 000:001;01[' ]| and then recover it? Or did it have$1$ some quite different meaning for Watt at the time of 000:001;01[' ]| its taking place, and then lose that meaning, and then receive that, alone or among 000:001;01[' ]| others, which it exhibited, in Watt's relation? Or did it have$1$ no meaning whatever for 000:001;01[' ]| Watt at the moment of its taking place, were there neither Galls nor piano then, but only 000:001;01[' ]| a unintelligible succession of changes, from which Watt finally extracted the Galls and 000:001;01[' ]| the piano, in selfdefence? These are most delicate questions. Watt spoke of it as 000:001;01[' ]| involving, in the original, the Galls and the piano, but he was obliged to$9$ do$1$ this, even if 000:001;01[' ]| the original had nothing to$9$ do$1$ with the Galls and the piano. For even if the Galls and the 000:001;01[' ]| piano were long posterior to$4$ the phenomena destined to$9$ become them, Watt was obliged 000:001;01[' ]| to$9$ think, and speak, of the incident, even at the moment of its taking place, as the 000:001;01[' ]| incident of the Galls and the piano, if he was to$9$ think and speak of it at all, and it may be$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| assumed that Watt would never have$1$ thought or spoken of such incidents, if he had not 000:001;01[' ]| been under the absolute necessity of doing so. But generally speaking it seems probable 000:001;01[' ]| that the meaning attributed to$4$ this particular type of incident, by Watt, in his relations, 000:001;01[' ]| was now the initial meaning that had been lost and then recovered, and now a meaning 000:001;01[' ]| quite distinct from the initial meaning, and now a meaning evolved, after a delay of 000:001;01[' ]| varying length, and with greater or less pains, from the initial absence of meaning 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| One more word on this subject. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt learned towards the end of his stay in Mr. Knott's house to$9$ accept that nothing 000:001;01[' ]| had happened, that a nothing had happened, learned to$9$ bear it and even, in a shy way, 000:001;01[' ]| to$9$ like it. But then it was too late. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| That then is that in which the incident of the Galls father and son resembled other 000:001;01[' ]| incidents, of which it was merely the first in time, other incidents of note. But to$9$ say$1$, 000:001;01[' ]| as has been said, that the incident of the Galls father and son had this aspect in 000:001;01[' ]| common with all the subsequent incidents of note, is perhaps to$9$ go a little too far. 000:001;01[' ]| For not all the subsequent incidents of note, with which Watt was called upon to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| deal, during his stay in Mr. Knott's house, and of course grounds, presented this 000:001;01[' ]| aspect, no, but some meant something from the very beginning, and continued to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| mean it, with all the tenacity of, for example, the flowering currant in the 000:001;01[' ]| rowing-boat, or the capitulation of the one-legged Mrs. Watson, right up to$4$ the end. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| As to$4$ that in which the incident of the Galls father and son differed from the 000:001;01[' ]| subsequent incidents of its category, that is no longer clear, and can not therefore be$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| stated, with profit. But it may be$1$ taken that the difference was so nice as with 000:001;01[' ]| advantage to$9$ be$1$ neglected, in a synopsis of this kind. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt thought sometimes of Arsene. He wondered what Arsene had meant, nay, he 000:001;01[' ]| wondered what Arsene had said, on the evening of his departure. For his declaration 000:001;01[' ]| had entered Watt's ears only by fits, and his understanding, like all that enters the 000:001;01[' ]| ears only by fits, hardly at all. He had realized, to$9$ be$1$ sure, that Arsene was speaking, 000:001;01[' ]| and in a sense to$4$ him, but something had prevented him, perhaps his fatigue, from 000:001;01[' ]| paying attention to$4$ what was being said and from enquiring into what was being 000:001;01[' ]| meant. Watt was now inclined to$9$ regret this, for from Erskine no information was to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| be$1$ obtained. Not that Watt desired information, 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| for he did not. But he desired words to$9$ be$1$ applied to$4$ his situation, to$4$ Mr. Knott, to$4$ the 000:001;01[' ]| house, to$4$ the grounds, to$4$ his duties, to$4$ the stairs, to$4$ his bedroom, to$4$ the kitchen, and in a 000:001;01[' ]| general way to$4$ the conditions of being in which he found himself. For Watt now found 000:001;01[' ]| himself in the midst of things which, if they consented to$9$ be$1$ named, did so as it were 000:001;01[' ]| with reluctance. And the state in which Watt found himself resisted formulation in a 000:001;01[' ]| way no state had ever done, in which Watt had ever found himself, and Watt had found 000:001;01[' ]| himself in a great many states, in his day. Looking at a pot, for example, or thinking of a 000:001;01[' ]| pot, at one of Mr. Knott's pots, of one of Mr. Knott's pots, it was in vain that Watt said, 000:001;01[' ]| Pot, pot. Well, perhaps not quite in vain, but very nearly. For it was not a pot, the more 000:001;01[' ]| he looked, the more he reflected, the more he felt sure of that, that it was not a pot at all. 000:001;01[' ]| It resembled a pot, it was almost a pot, but it was not a pot of which one could say$1$, Pot, 000:001;01[' ]| pot, and be$1$ comforted. It was in vain that it answered, with unexceptionable adequacy, 000:001;01[' ]| all the purposes, and performed all the offices, of a pot, it was not a pot. And it was just 000:001;01[' ]| this hairbreadth departure from the nature of a true pot that so excruciated Watt. For if 000:001;01[' ]| the approximation had been less close, then Watt would have$1$ been less anguished. For 000:001;01[' ]| then he would not have$1$ said, This is a pot, and yet not a pot, no, but then he would have$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| said, This is something of which I do not know the name. And Watt preferred on the 000:001;01[' ]| whole having to$9$ do$1$ with things of which he did not know the name, though this too was 000:001;01[' ]| painful to$4$ Watt, to$4$ having to$9$ do$1$ with things of which the known name, the proven name, 000:001;01[' ]| was not the name, any more, for him. For he could always hope, of a thing of which he 000:001;01[' ]| had never known the name, that he would learn the name, some day, and so be$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| tranquillized. But he could not look forward to$4$ this in the case of a thing of which the 000:001;01[' ]| true name had ceased, suddenly, 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| or gradually, to$9$ be$1$ the true name for Watt. For the pot remained a pot, Watt felt sure of 000:001;01[' ]| that, for everyone but Watt. For Watt alone it was not a pot, any more. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Then, when he turned for reassurance to$4$ himself, who was not Mr. Knott's, in the sense 000:001;01[' ]| that the pot was, who had come from without and whom the without would take again, <1> 000:001;01[' ]| he made the distressing discovery that of himself too he could no longer affirm anything 000:001;01[' ]| that did not seem as false as if he had affirmed it of a stone. Not that Watt was in the 000:001;01[' ]| habit of affirming things of himself, for he was not, but he found it a help, from time to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| time, to$9$ be$1$ able to$9$ say$1$, with some appearance of reason, Watt is a man, all the same, 000:001;01[' ]| Watt is a man, or, Watt is in the street, with thousands of fellow-creatures within call. 000:001;01[' ]| And Watt was greatly troubled by this tiny little thing, more troubled perhaps than he 000:001;01[' ]| had ever been by anything, and Watt had been frequently and exceedingly troubled, in 000:001;01[' ]| his time, by this imperceptible, no, hardly imperceptible, since he perceived it, by this 000:001;01[' ]| indefinable thing that prevented him from saying, with conviction, and to$4$ his relief, of 000:001;01[' ]| the object that was so like a pot, that it was a pot, and of the creature that still in spite of 000:001;01[' ]| everything presented a large number of exclusively human characteristics, that it was a 000:001;01[' ]| man. And Watt's need of semantic succour was at times so great 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| <1 Watt, unlike Arsene, had never supposed that Mr. Knott's house would he his last> 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| that he would set to$4$ trying names on things, and on himself, almost as a woman hats. 000:001;01[' ]| Thus of the pseudo-pot he would say$1$, after reflexion, It is a shield, or, growing bolder, It 000:001;01[' ]| is a raven, and so on. But the pot proved as little a shield, or a raven, or any other of the 000:001;01[' ]| things that Watt called it, as a pot. As for himself, though he could no longer call it 000:001;01[' ]| a man, as he had used to$9$ do$1$, with the intuition that he was perhaps not talking nonsense, 000:001;01[' ]| yet he could not imagine what else to$9$ call it, if not a man. But Watt's imagination had 000:001;01[' ]| never been a lively one. So he continued to$9$ think of himself as a man, as his mother had 000:001;01[' ]| taught him, when she said, There is a good little man, or, There is a bonny little man, or, 000:001;01[' ]| There is a clever little man. But for all the relief that this afforded him, he might just as 000:001;01[' ]| well have$1$ thought of himself as a box, or a urn. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| It was principally for these reasons that Watt would have$1$ been glad to$9$ hear Erskine's 000:001;01[' ]| voice, wrapping up safe in words the kitchen space, the extraordinary newel-lamp, the 000:001;01[' ]| stairs that were never the same and of which even the number of steps seemed to$9$ vary, 000:001;01[' ]| from day to$4$ day, and from night to$4$ morning, and many other things in the house, and the 000:001;01[' ]| bushes without and other garden growths, that so often prevented Watt from taking the 000:001;01[' ]| air, even on the finest day, so that he grew pale, and constipated, and even the light as it 000:001;01[' ]| came and went and the clouds that climbed the sky, now slow, now rapid, and generally 000:001;01[' ]| from west to$9$ cast, or sank down towards the earth on the other side, for the clouds seen 000:001;01[' ]| from Mr. Knott's premises were not quite the clouds that Watt was used to$4$, and Watt had 000:001;01[' ]| a great experience of clouds, and could distinguish the various sorts, the cirrhus, the 000:001;01[' ]| stratus, the tumulus and the various other sorts, at a glance. Not that the fact of Erskine's 000:001;01[' ]| naming the pot, or of his saying to$4$ Watt, My dear fellow, or, My good man, or, God 000:001;01[' ]| damn you, would have$1$ changed the pot into 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| a pot, or Watt into a man, for Watt, for it would not. But it would have$1$ shown that at 000:001;01[' ]| least for Erskine the pot was a pot, and Watt a man. Not that the fact of the pot's 000:001;01[' ]| being a pot, or Watt's being a man, for Erskine, would have$1$ caused the pot to$9$ be$1$ a 000:001;01[' ]| pot, or Watt to$9$ be$1$ a man, for Watt, for it would not. But it would perhaps have$1$ lent a 000:001;01[' ]| little colour to$4$ the hope, sometimes entertained by Watt, that he was in poor health, 000:001;01[' ]| owing to$4$ the efforts of his body to$9$ adjust itself to$4$ a unfamiliar milieu, and that these 000:001;01[' ]| would be$1$ successful, in the end, and his health restored, and things appear, and 000:001;01[' ]| himself appear, in their ancient guise, and consent to$9$ be$1$ named, with the 000:001;01[' ]| time-honoured names, and forgotten. Not that Watt longed at all times for this 000:001;01[' ]| restoration, of things, of himself, to$4$ their comparative innocuousness, 000:001;01[' ]| for he did not. For there were times when he felt a feeling closely resembling the 000:001;01[' ]| feeling of satisfaction, at his being so abandoned, by the last rats. For after these 000:001;01[' ]| there would be$1$ no more rats, not a rat left, and there were times when Watt almost 000:001;01[' ]| welcomed this prospect, of being rid of his last rats, at last. It would be$1$ lonely, to$9$ be$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| sure, at first, and silent, after the gnawing, the scurrying, the little cries. Things and 000:001;01[' ]| himself, they had gone with him now for so long, in the foul weather, and in the less 000:001;01[' ]| foul. Things in the ordinary sense, and then the emptinesses between them, and the 000:001;01[' ]| light high up before it reached them, and then the other thing, the high heavy hollow 000:001;01[' ]| jointed unstable thing, that trampled down the grasses, and scattered the sand, in 000:001;01[' ]| its pursuits. But if there were times when Watt envisaged this dereliction with 000:001;01[' ]| something like satisfaction, these were rare, particularly in the early stages of Watt's 000:001;01[' ]| stay in Mr. Knott's house. And most often he found himself longing for a voice, for 000:001;01[' ]| Erskine's, since he was alone with Erskine, to$9$ speak of the little world of Mr. Knott's 000:001;01[' ]| establishment, with the old words, the old credentials. There was of course 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| the gardener, to$9$ speak of the garden. But could the gardener speak of the garden, the 000:001;01[' ]| gardener who went home every evening, before nightfall, and did not return next 000:001;01[' ]| morning until the sun was well up, in the sky? No, the gardener's remarks were not 000:001;01[' ]| evidence, in Watt's opinion. Only Erskine could speak of the garden, as only Erskine 000:001;01[' ]| could speak of the house, usefully, to$4$ Watt. And Erskine never spoke, either of the one, 000:001;01[' ]| or of the other. Indeed Erskine never opened his mouth, in Watt's presence, except to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| eat, or belch, or cough, or keck, or muse, or sigh, or sing, or sneeze. It is true that during 000:001;01[' ]| the first week hardly a day passed that Erskine did not address himself to$4$ Watt, on the 000:001;01[' ]| subject of Watt's duties. But in the first week Watt's words had not yet begun to$9$ fail him, 000:001;01[' ]| or Watt's world to$9$ become unspeakable. It is true also that from time to$4$ time Erskine 000:001;01[' ]| would come running to$4$ Watt, all in a fluster, with some quite ridiculous question, such 000:001;01[' ]| as, Did you see Mr. Knott?, or, Has Kate come? But this was much later. Perhaps some 000:001;01[' ]| day, said Watt, he will ask, Where is the pot?, or, Where did you put that pot? These 000:001;01[' ]| questions, absurd as they were, constituted nevertheless a acknowledgement of Watt 000:001;01[' ]| that Watt was not slow to$9$ appreciate. But he would have$1$ appreciated it more if it had 000:001;01[' ]| come earlier, before he had grown used to$4$ his loss of species. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The song that Erskine sang, or rather intoned, was always the same. It was: 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Perhaps if Watt had spoken to$4$ Erskine, Erskine would have$1$ spoken to$4$ Watt, in reply. But 000:001;01[' ]| Watt was not so far gone as all that. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt's attention was extreme, in the beginning, to$4$ all that went on about him. Not a 000:001;01[' ]| sound was made, within earshot, 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| that he did not capture and, when necessary, interrogate, and he opened wide his 000:001;01[' ]| eyes to$4$ all that passed, near and at a distance, to$4$ all that came and went and paused 000:001;01[' ]| and stirred, and to$4$ all that brightened and darkened and grew and dwindled, and he 000:001;01[' ]| grasped, in many cases, the nature of the object affected, and even the immediate 000:001;01[' ]| cause of its being so. To$4$ the thousand smells also, which time leaves behind, Watt 000:001;01[' ]| paid the closest attention. And he provided himself with a portable spittoon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| This constant tension of some of his most noble faculties tired Watt greatly. And the 000:001;01[' ]| results, on the whole, were meagre. But he had no choice, at first. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| One of the first things that Watt learned by these means was that Mr. Knott 000:001;01[' ]| sometimes rose late and retired early, and sometimes rose very late and retired very 000:001;01[' ]| early, and sometimes did not rise at all, nor at all retire, for who can retire who does 000:001;01[' ]| not rise? What interested Watt here was this, that the earlier Mr. Knott rose the later 000:001;01[' ]| he retired, and that the later he rose the earlier he retired. But between the hour of his 000:001;01[' ]| rising and the hour of his retiring there seemed no fixed correlation, or one so 000:001;01[' ]| abstruse that it did not exist, for Watt. For a long time this was a source of great 000:001;01[' ]| wonder, to$4$ Watt, for he said, Here is one who seems on the one hand reluctant to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| change his state, and on the other impatient to$9$ do$1$ so. For on Monday, Tuesday and 000:001;01[' ]| Friday he rose at eleven and retired at seven, and on Wednesday and Saturday he 000:001;01[' ]| rose at nine and retired at eight, and on Sunday he did not rise at all, nor at all retire. 000:001;01[' ]| Until Watt realized that between Mr. Knott risen and Mr. Knott retired there was so 000:001;01[' ]| to$9$ speak nothing to$9$ choose. For his rising was not a rising from sleep to$4$ vigil, nor his 000:001;01[' ]| setting a setting from vigil to$4$ sleep, no, but they were a rising and a setting from and 000:001;01[' ]| to$4$ and to$4$ and from a state that was neither sleep nor vigil, nor vigil nor sleep. Even 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Knott could hardly be$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| expected to$9$ remain day and night in the same Position. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Knott's meals gave very little trouble. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| On Saturday night a sufficient quantity of food was prepared and cooked to$9$ carry Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Knott through the week. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| This dish contained foods of various kinds, such as soup of various kinds, fish, eggs, 000:001;01[' ]| game, poultry, meat, cheese, fruit, all of various kinds, and of course bread and butter, 000:001;01[' ]| and it contained also the more usual beverages, such as absinthe, mineral water, tea, 000:001;01[' ]| coffee, milk, stout, beer, whiskey, brandy, wine and water, and it contained also many 000:001;01[' ]| things to$9$ take for the good of the health, such as insulin, digitalin, calomel, iodine, 000:001;01[' ]| laudanum, mercury, coal, iron, camomile and worm-powder, and of course salt and 000:001;01[' ]| mustard, pepper and sugar, and of course a little salicylic acid, to$9$ delay fermentation. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| All these things, and many others too numerous to$9$ mention, were well mixed together in 000:001;01[' ]| the famous pot and boiled for four hours, until the consistence of a mess, or poss, was 000:001;01[' ]| obtained, and all the good things to$9$ eat, and all the good things to$9$ drink, and all the good 000:001;01[' ]| things to$9$ take for the good of the health were inextricably mingled and transformed into 000:001;01[' ]| a single good thing that was neither food, nor drink, nor physic, but quite a new good 000:001;01[' ]| thing, and of which the tiniest spoonful at once opened the appetite and closed it, 000:001;01[' ]| excited and stilled the thirst, compromised and stimulated the body's vital functions, and 000:001;01[' ]| went pleasantly to$4$ the head. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| It fell to$4$ Watt to$9$ weigh, to$9$ measure and to$9$ count, with the utmost exactness, the 000:001;01[' ]| ingredients that composed this dish, and to$9$ dress for the pot those that required dressing, 000:001;01[' ]| and to$9$ mix them thoroughly together without loss, so that not one could be$1$ distinguished 000:001;01[' ]| from another, and to$9$ put them on to$9$ boil, and when boiling to$9$ keep them on the boil, and 000:001;01[' ]| when boiled to$9$ take them off the boil and put 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| out to$9$ cool, in a cool place. This was a task that taxed Watt's powers, both of mind 000:001;01[' ]| and of body, to$4$ the utmost, it was so delicate, and rude. And in warm weather it 000:001;01[' ]| sometimes happened, as he mixed, stripped to$4$ the waist, and plying with both hands 000:001;01[' ]| the great iron rod, that tears would fall, tears of mental fatigue, from his face, into 000:001;01[' ]| the pot, and from his chest, and out from under his arms, beads of moisture, 000:001;01[' ]| provoked by his exertions, into the pot also. His moral reserves also were severely 000:001;01[' ]| tried, so great was his sense of responsibility. For he knew, as though he had been 000:001;01[' ]| told, that the receipt of this dish had never varied, since its establishment, long long 000:001;01[' ]| before, and that the choice, the dosage and the quantities of the elements employed 000:001;01[' ]| had been calculated, with the most minute exactness, to$9$ afford Mr. Knott, in a course 000:001;01[' ]| of fourteen full meals, that is to$9$ say$1$, seven full luncheons, and seven full dinners, the 000:001;01[' ]| maximum of pleasure compatible with the protraction of his health. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| This dish was served to$4$ Mr. Knott, cold, in a bowl, at twelve o'clock noon sharp and 000:001;01[' ]| at seven p.m. exactly, all the year round. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| That is to$9$ say$1$ that Watt carried in the bowl, full, to$4$ the dining-room at those hours, 000:001;01[' ]| and left it on the table. a hour later he went back and took it away, in whatever 000:001;01[' ]| state Mr. Knott had left it. If the bowl still contained food, then Watt transferred this 000:001;01[' ]| food to$4$ the dog's dish. But if it was empty, then Watt washed it up, in readiness for 000:001;01[' ]| the next meal. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| So Watt never saw Mr. Knott at mealtime. For Mr. Knott was never punctual, at his 000:001;01[' ]| meals. But he was seldom later than twenty minutes, or half a hour. And whether he 000:001;01[' ]| emptied the bowl, or did not, it never took him more than five minutes to$9$ do$1$ so, or 000:001;01[' ]| seven minutes at the outside. So that Mr. Knott was never in the dining-room when 000:001;01[' ]| Watt brought in the bowl, and he was never there either when 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt went back, to$9$ take the bowl away. So Watt never saw Mr. Knott, never never 000:001;01[' ]| saw Mr. Knott, at mealtime. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Knott ate this dish with a little plated trowel, such as confectioners and grocers 000:001;01[' ]| use, and tea-merchants. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| This arrangement represented a great saving of labour. Coal also was economized. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| To$4$ whom, Watt wondered, was this arrangement due? To$4$ Mr. Knott himself? Or to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| some other person, to$4$ a past domestic perhaps of genius for example, or a 000:001;01[' ]| professional dietician? And if not to$4$ Mr. Knott himself, but to$4$ some other person (or 000:001;01[' ]| of course persons), did Mr. Knott know that such a arrangement existed, or did he 000:001;01[' ]| not? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Knott was never heard to$9$ complain of his food, though he did not always eat it. 000:001;01[' ]| Sometimes he emptied the bowl, scraping its sides, and bottom, with the trowel, until 000:001;01[' ]| they shone, and sometimes he left the half of it, or some other fraction, and 000:001;01[' ]| sometimes he left the whole of it. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Twelve possibilities occurred to$4$ Watt, in this connexion: 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I. Mr. Knott was responsible for the arrangement, and knew that he was responsible 000:001;01[' ]| for the arrangement, and knew that such a arrangement existed, and was content. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 2. Mr. Knott was not responsible for the arrangement, but knew who was responsible 000:001;01[' ]| for the arrangement, and knew that such a arrangement existed, and was content. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 3. Mr. Knott was responsible for the arrangement, and knew that he was responsible 000:001;01[' ]| for the arrangement, but did not know that any such arrangement existed, and was 000:001;01[' ]| content. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 4. Mr. Knott was not responsible for the arrangement, but knew who was responsible 000:001;01[' ]| for the arrangement, but did not know that any such arrangement existed, and was 000:001;01[' ]| content. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 5. Mr. Knott was responsible for the arrangement, but did not know who was 000:001;01[' ]| responsible for the arrangement, nor that any such arrangement existed, and was 000:001;01[' ]| content. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 6. Mr. Knott was not responsible for the arrangement, nor knew who was responsible 000:001;01[' ]| for the arrangement, nor that any such arrangement existed, and was content. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 7. Mr. Knott was responsible for the arrangement, but did not know who was 000:001;01[' ]| responsible for the arrangement, and knew that such a arrangement existed, and was 000:001;01[' ]| content. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 8. Mr. Knott was not responsible for the arrangement, nor knew who was responsible 000:001;01[' ]| for the arrangement, and knew that such a arrangement existed, and was content. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 9. Mr. Knott was responsible for the arrangement, but knew who was responsible for 000:001;01[' ]| the arrangement, and knew that such a arrangement existed, and was content. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 10. Mr. Knott was not responsible for the arrangement, but knew that he was 000:001;01[' ]| responsible for the arrangement, and knew that such a arrangement existed, and was 000:001;01[' ]| content. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 11. Mr. Knott was responsible for the arrangement, but knew who was responsible 000:001;01[' ]| for the arrangement, but did not know that any such arrangement existed, and was 000:001;01[' ]| content. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 12. Mr. Knott was not responsible for the arrangement, but knew that he was 000:001;01[' ]| responsible for the arrangement, but did not know that any such arrangement existed, 000:001;01[' ]| and was content. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Other possibilities occurred to$4$ Watt, in this connexion, but he put them aside, and 000:001;01[' ]| quite out of his mind, as unworthy of serious consideration, for the time being. The 000:001;01[' ]| time would come, perhaps, when they would be$1$ worthy of serious consideration, and 000:001;01[' ]| then, if he could, he would summon them to$4$ his mind, and consider them seriously. 000:001;01[' ]| But for the moment they did not seem worthy of serious consideration, so he put 000:001;01[' ]| them quite out of his mind, and forgot them. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt's instructions were to$9$ give what Mr. Knott left this dish, on the days that he did 000:001;01[' ]| not cat it all, to$4$ the dog. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Now there was no dog in the house, that is to$9$ say$1$, no house-dog, to$4$ which this food 000:001;01[' ]| could be$1$ given, on the days that Mr. Knott did not require it. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt, reflecting on this, heard a little voice say, Mr. Knott, having once known a man 000:001;01[' ]| who was bitten by a dog, in the leg, and having once known another man who was 000:001;01[' ]| scratched by a cat, in the nose, and having once known a fine healthy woman who 000:001;01[' ]| was butted by a goat, in the loins, and having once known another man who was 000:001;01[' ]| disembowelled by a bull, in the bowels, and having once frequented a canon who 000:001;01[' ]| was kicked by a horse, in the crotch, is shy of dogs, and other four-footed friends, 000:001;01[' ]| about the place, and of his inarticulate bipedal brothers and sisters in God hardly less 000:001;01[' ]| so, for he once knew a missionary who was trampled to$4$ death by a ostrich, in the 000:001;01[' ]| stomach, and he once knew a priest who, on leaving with a sigh of relief the chapel 000:001;01[' ]| where he had served mass, with his own hands, to$4$ more than a hundred persons, was 000:001;01[' ]| shat on, from above, by a dove, in the eye. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt never knew quite what to$9$ make of this particular little voice, whether it was 000:001;01[' ]| joking, or whether it was serious. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| So that it was necessary that a dog from outside should call at the house at least once 000:001;01[' ]| every day, on the off chance of its being given part, or all, of Mr. Knott's lunch, or 000:001;01[' ]| dinner, or both, to$9$ eat. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Now in this matter great difficulties must have$1$ been encountered, notwithstanding 000:001;01[' ]| the large numbers of hungry and even starving dogs with which the neighbourhood 000:001;01[' ]| abounded, and doubtless had always abounded, for miles around, in every direction. 000:001;01[' ]| And the reason for that was perhaps this, that the number of times that the dog went 000:001;01[' ]| full away was small compared with the number of times that it went away half 000:001;01[' ]| empty, and the number of times that it went away half empty was small compared 000:001;01[' ]| with 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| the number of times that it went away as empty as it came. For it was more usual for Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Knott to$9$ eat all his food than to$9$ eat only a part, and to$9$ eat only a part than to$9$ eat none at 000:001;01[' ]| all, much much more usual. For while it is true that Mr. Knott very often rose very late 000:001;01[' ]| and retired very early, yet the number of times was very great on which Mr. Knott rose 000:001;01[' ]| just in time to$9$ eat his lunch, and ate his dinner just in time to$9$ retire. The days on which 000:001;01[' ]| he neither rose nor retired, and so left both his lunch and his dinner untouched, were of 000:001;01[' ]| course wonderful days, for the dog. But they were very rare. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Now will of its own free will the average hungry or starving dog be$1$ constant in its 000:001;01[' ]| attendance, under such conditions? No, the average hungry or starving dog, if left to$4$ its 000:001;01[' ]| own devices, will not, for it would not be$1$ worth its while. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Add to$4$ this that the dog's attendance was required, not at any odd hour of the day or 000:001;01[' ]| night that it might fancy to$9$ drop in, no, but between certain definite limiting hours, and 000:001;01[' ]| these were eight o'clock p.m. and ten o'clock p.m. And the reason for that was this, that 000:001;01[' ]| at ten o'clock the house was shut up for the night, and it was not known, until eight 000:001;01[' ]| o'clock, if Mr. Knott had left anything, or all, or nothing, of his food for the day. For 000:001;01[' ]| though as a general rule Mr. Knott ate every atom, both of his lunch and of his dinner, in 000:001;01[' ]| which case the dog got nothing, yet what was to$9$ prevent him from eating every atom of 000:001;01[' ]| his lunch, but no dinner, or only part of his dinner, in which case the dog got the uneaten 000:001;01[' ]| dinner, or portion of dinner, or from eating no lunch, or only part of his lunch, and yet 000:001;01[' ]| every atom of his dinner, in which case the dog got the uneaten lunch, or portion of 000:001;01[' ]| lunch, or from eating only part of his lunch, and then again only part of his dinner, in 000:001;01[' ]| which case the dog benefited by the two uneaten portions, or from not 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| touching either his lunch or his dinner, in which case the dog, if it neither delayed nor 000:001;01[' ]| precipitated its arrival, went away with its belly full at last. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| By what means then were the dog and the food to$9$ be$1$ brought together, on those days on 000:001;01[' ]| which, Mr. Knott having left all or part of his food for the day, all or part of the food 000:001;01[' ]| was available for the dog? For Watt's instructions were formal: On those days on which 000:001;01[' ]| food was left over, the food left over was to$9$ be$1$ given to$4$ the dog, without loss of time. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| This was the problem that must have$1$ faced Mr. Knott, in the far distant past, at the 000:001;01[' ]| moment of his setting up house. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| This was one of the many problems that must have$1$ faced Mr. Knott then. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Or if not Mr. Knott, then another, of whom all trace is lost. Or if not another, then 000:001;01[' ]| others, of whom no trace remains. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt now passed on to$4$ the manner in which this problem had been solved, if not by Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Knott, then by that other, and if neither by Mr. Knott nor by that other, then by those 000:001;01[' ]| others, in a word, to$4$ the manner in which this problem had been solved, this problem of 000:001;01[' ]| how to$9$ bring the dog and food together, by Mr. Knott, or by him, or by them, whom it 000:001;01[' ]| had faced, in that far distant past, when Mr. Knott set up his establishment, for that it 000:001;01[' ]| could have$1$ been solved by some person or persons whom it had never faced seemed 000:001;01[' ]| improbable, highly improbable, to$4$ Watt. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But before he passed on to$4$ this, he paused to$9$ reflect that the solution of this problem of 000:001;01[' ]| how to$9$ bring the dog and food together in the way described had perhaps been arrived at 000:001;01[' ]| by the same person or persons by whom the solution of the problem of how Mr. Knott's 000:001;01[' ]| food was to$9$ be$1$ prepared had been arrived at, so long before. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| And when he had paused to$9$ reflect on this, he paused a little longer, before passing on to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| the solution that seemed to$9$ have$1$ prevailed, to$9$ consider some at least of those that did not 000:001;01[' ]| seem to$9$ have$1$ prevailed. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But before pausing a little longer to$9$ do$1$ this, he hastened to$9$ remark that those solutions 000:001;01[' ]| that did not seem to$9$ have$1$ prevailed might have$1$ been considered, and set aside, as 000:001;01[' ]| unsatisfactory, by the author or authors of the solution that did seem to$9$ have$1$ prevailed, 000:001;01[' ]| or might not. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 1. a exceptional hungry or starving dog might have$1$ been sought out, that for reasons 000:001;01[' ]| best known to$4$ itself would have$1$ considered it worth its while to$9$ call at the 000:001;01[' ]| house, in the manner required. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But the chances of such a dog's existing were small. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But the likelihood of finding such a dog, if it did exist, was slight. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 2. a ill-nourished local dog might have$1$ been selected, to$4$ which with the consent of its 000:001;01[' ]| proprietor all or part of Mr. Knott's food might have$1$ been brought by one of Mr. Knott's 000:001;01[' ]| men, on the days that Mr. Knott left all or part of his food, for the day. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But then one of Mr. Knott's men would have$1$ had to$9$ put on his coat and hat and turn out, 000:001;01[' ]| likely as not in the pitch dark, and in torrents of rain in all probability, and grope his way 000:001;01[' ]| in the dark in the pours of rain, with the pot of food in his hand, a wretched and 000:001;01[' ]| ridiculous figure, to$4$ where the dog lay. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But was there any guarantee of the dog's being in, when the man arrived? Might not the 000:001;01[' ]| dog have$1$ gone out, for the night? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But was there any guarantee, supposing the dog to$9$ be$1$ in when the man arrived, of the 000:001;01[' ]| dog's being hungry enough to$9$ eat the pot of food, when the man arrived with the pot of 000:001;01[' ]| food? Might not the dog have$1$ satisfied its hunger, during 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| the day? Or was there any assurance, supposing the dog to$9$ be$1$ out when the man arrived, 000:001;01[' ]| of the dog's being hungry enough, when it came in, in the morning or during the night, to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| eat the pot of food that the man had brought? Might not the dog have$1$ satisfied its 000:001;01[' ]| hunger, during the night, and indeed left the house with no other purpose? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 3. A messenger might have$1$ been employed, a man, or a boy, or a woman, or a girl, to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| call at the house every evening at say eight fifteen o'clock in the evening, and on those 000:001;01[' ]| evenings on which food was available for the dog to$9$ take that food to$4$ a dog, to$4$ any dog, 000:001;01[' ]| and to$9$ stand over that dog until it had eaten the food, and if it could not or would not 000:001;01[' ]| finish the food to$9$ take what remained of the food to$4$ another dog, to$4$ any other dog, and 000:001;01[' ]| to$9$ stand over that other dog until it had eaten what remained of the food, and if it could 000:001;01[' ]| not or would not finish what remained of the food to$9$ take what still remained of the food 000:001;01[' ]| to$4$ another dog, to$4$ any other dog, and so on, until all the food was eaten, and not a atom 000:001;01[' ]| remained, and then to$9$ bring back the pot empty. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| (This person might have$1$ been further employed to$9$ clean the boots, and the shoes, either 000:001;01[' ]| before leaving the house with the pot full, though of course it was not full at all, or on 000:001;01[' ]| returning to$4$ the house with the pot empty, or simply on learning that there was no food 000:001;01[' ]| available for the dog, that day. This would have$1$ greatly relieved the gardener, a Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Graves, and enabled him to$9$ give the garden the time that he gave to$4$ the boots, and to$4$ the 000:001;01[' ]| shoes. And is it not strange most strange that one says of a thing that it is full, when it is 000:001;01[' ]| not full at all, but not of a thing that it is empty, if it is not empty? And perhaps the 000:001;01[' ]| reason for that is this, that when one fills, one seldom fills quite full, for that would not 000:001;01[' ]| be$1$ convenient. whereas when one empties one empties completely, holding the vessel 000:001;01[' ]| upside down, and rinsing it out with boiling water if necessary, with a kind of fury.) 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But was there any guarantee that the messenger would indeed give the food to$4$ a dog, 000:001;01[' ]| or dogs, in accordance with his instructions? What was to$9$ prevent the messenger 000:001;01[' ]| from eating the food himself, or from selling all or part of the food to$4$ some other 000:001;01[' ]| party, or from giving it away, or from emptying it away into the nearest ditch or hole, 000:001;01[' ]| to$9$ save time, and trouble? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But what would happen if the messenger, through indisposition, or drunkenness, or 000:001;01[' ]| carelessness, or idleness, failed to$9$ call at the house on a evening on which food was 000:001;01[' ]| available for the dog? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But might not even the most hardy, the most sober, the most conscientious of 000:001;01[' ]| messengers, knowing all the local dogs, their habits and their homes, their colours 000:001;01[' ]| and their shapes, have$1$ still some food got, in the old pot, when ten o'cluck strock, 000:001;01[' ]| from the old clock, and then how would he bring back the pot, the trusty messenger, 000:001;01[' ]| if the pot was not empty in time, for the following morning would be$1$ too late, for 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Knott's pots and pans were not allowed to$9$ stay out, overnight. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But was a dog the same thing as the dog? For in Watt's instructions there was no 000:001;01[' ]| mention of a dog, but only of the dog, which could only mean that what was required 000:001;01[' ]| was not any dog, but one particular dog, that is to$9$ say$1$, not one dog one day, and the 000:001;01[' ]| next another, and perhaps the next a third, no, but every day the same, every day the 000:001;01[' ]| same poor old dog, as long as the dog lived. But a fortiori were several dogs the same 000:001;01[' ]| thing as the dog? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 4. A man possessed of a famished dog might have$1$ been sought out, whose business 000:001;01[' ]| brought him, accompanied by his dog, past Mr. Knott's house every evening of the 000:001;01[' ]| year, between the hours of eight and ten. Then on those evenings on which food was 000:001;01[' ]| available for the dog, in Mr. Knott's window, or some other conspicuous window, a 000:001;01[' ]| red light 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| would be$1$ set, or perhaps better a green, and on all other evenings a violet light, or 000:001;01[' ]| perhaps better no light at all, and then the man (and no doubt after a little time the 000:001;01[' ]| dog too) would lift up his eyes to$4$ the window as he passed, and seeing a red light, or 000:001;01[' ]| a green light, would hasten to$4$ the housedoor and stand over his dog until his dog had 000:001;01[' ]| eaten all the food that Mr. Knott had left, but seeing a violet light, or no light at all, 000:001;01[' ]| would not hasten to$4$ the door, with his dog, but continue on his way, down the road, 000:001;01[' ]| with his dog, as though nothing had happened. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But was it likely that such a man existed? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But was it likely, if he did, that he could be$1$ found? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But if he did, and he were found, might he not confound, in his mind, as he passed 000:001;01[' ]| before the house, on his way home, if he were homeward bound, or on his way out, if 000:001;01[' ]| he were outward bound, for whither can a man be$1$ bound, if bound he be$1$, but on the 000:001;01[' ]| one hand homeward, and on the other outward, might he not confound, in his mind, 000:001;01[' ]| the red light with the violet, the violet with the green, the green with the none, the 000:001;01[' ]| none with the red, and when there was no food him for come ratatat knocking at the 000:001;01[' ]| door, and when there was for him some food onward plod along the road, followed 000:001;01[' ]| by his faithful emaciated dog? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But might not Erskine, or Watt, or some other Erskine, or some other Watt, set in the 000:001;01[' ]| window the wrong light, or the no light, by mistake, or the right light, or the no light, 000:001;01[' ]| when it was too late, out of forgetfulness, or procrastination, and the man and dog 000:001;01[' ]| come running to$4$ the door, when there was nothing, or onward plod, when there was 000:001;01[' ]| something? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But would not this greatly add to$4$ the worries, the responsibilities, and the exertions, 000:001;01[' ]| already so heavy, of Mr. Knott's servants? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| So Watt considered, not only some of those solutions that had not apparently 000:001;01[' ]| prevailed, but also some of those 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| objections that were perhaps the cause of their not having done so, distributed as 000:001;01[' ]| follows: 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Solution Number of Objections 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 1st 2 000:001;01[' ]| 2nd 3 000:001;01[' ]| 3rd 4 000:001;01[' ]| 4th 5 000:001;01[' ]| Number of Solutions Number of Objections 000:001;01[' ]| 4 14 000:001;01[' ]| 3 9 000:001;01[' ]| 2 5 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Passing on then to$4$ the solution that seemed to$9$ have$1$ prevailed, Watt found it to$9$ be$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| roughly this, that a suitable local dog-owner, that is to$9$ say$1$ a needy man with a famished 000:001;01[' ]| dog, should be$1$ sought out, and on him settled a handsome annuity of fifty pounds 000:001;01[' ]| payable monthly, in consideration of his calling at Mr. Knott's house every evening 000:001;01[' ]| between eight and ten, accompanied by his dog in a famished condition, and on those 000:001;01[' ]| days on which there was food for his dog of his standing over his dog, with a stick, 000:001;01[' ]| before witnesses, until the dog had eaten all the food until not a atom remained, and of 000:001;01[' ]| his then taking himself and his dog off the premises without delay; and that a younger 000:001;01[' ]| famished dog should by this man at Mr. Knott's expense be$1$ acquired and held in reserve, 000:001;01[' ]| against the day when the first famished dog should die, and that then again another 000:001;01[' ]| famished dog should in the same way be$1$ procured and held in readiness, against the 000:001;01[' ]| inevitable hour when the second famished dog should pay nature's debt, and so on 000:001;01[' ]| indefinitely, there being thus two famished dogs always available, the one to$9$ eat 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| the food left over by Mr. Knott in the manner described until it died, and the other 000:001;01[' ]| then for as long as it lived to$9$ do$1$ the same, and so on indefinitely; and further that a 000:001;01[' ]| similar young local but dogless man should be$1$ sought out, against the day when the 000:001;01[' ]| first local man should die, to$9$ take over and exploit, in the same way and on the same 000:001;01[' ]| terms, the two surviving famished dogs thus left without a master, and without a 000:001;01[' ]| home; and that then again another young local dogless man should in the same way 000:001;01[' ]| be$1$ secured, against the dread hour of the second local man's dissolution, and so on 000:001;01[' ]| indefinitely, there being thus two famished dogs and two needy local men for ever 000:001;01[' ]| available, the first needy local man to$9$ own and exploit the two famished dogs in the 000:001;01[' ]| manner described as long as he lived, and the other then, as long as he drew breath, 000:001;01[' ]| to$9$ do$1$ the same, and so on indefinitely; and that lest, as might very well happen, one 000:001;01[' ]| of the two famished dogs, or both the famished dogs, should fail to$9$ survive their 000:001;01[' ]| master, and follow him at once to$4$ the grave, a third, a fourth, a fifth and even a sixth 000:001;01[' ]| famished dog should be$1$ acquired and suitably maintained at Mr. Knott's expense in 000:001;01[' ]| some convenient place in a famished condition, or that better still there should be$1$ at 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Knott's expense on some favourable site established a kennel or colony of 000:001;01[' ]| famished dogs from which at any time a well-bred well-trained famished dog could 000:001;01[' ]| be$1$ withdrawn and set to$9$ work, in the manner described; and that on the off chance of 000:001;01[' ]| the second poor young local man's passing over, into the beyond, at the same time as 000:001;01[' ]| the first poor local man, or even before, and stranger things are of hourly occurrence, 000:001;01[' ]| a third, a fourth, a fifth and even a sixth poor young local dogless man or even 000:001;01[' ]| woman should be$1$ sought out and by fair words and occasional gifts of money and old 000:001;01[' ]| clothes as far as possible secured to$4$ Mr. Knott's service eventually in the manner 000:001;01[' ]| described, or better still that a suitable large 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| needy local family of say the two parents and from ten to$4$ fifteen children and 000:001;01[' ]| grandchildren passionately attached to$4$ their birthplace should be$1$ sought out, and by 000:001;01[' ]| a handsome small initial lump sum to$9$ be$1$ paid down and by a liberal annual pension 000:001;01[' ]| of fifty pounds to$9$ be$1$ paid monthly and by occasional seasonable gifts of loose 000:001;01[' ]| change and tight clothes and by untiring well-timed affectionate words of advice 000:001;01[' ]| and encouragement and consolation, attached firmly for good and all in block, their 000:001;01[' ]| children and their children's children, to$4$ Mr. Knott's service, in all matters touching 000:001;01[' ]| this matter of the dog required to$9$ eat the food that Mr. Knott left, and exclusively in 000:001;01[' ]| these, and that to$4$ their care the kennel or colony of famished dogs set up by Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Knott in order that there should never be$1$ wanting a famished dog to$9$ eat his food on 000:001;01[' ]| those days that he did not eat it himself should be$1$ once and for all handed over, for 000:001;01[' ]| the matter of the kennel was one that touched the matter of the dog. And this 000:001;01[' ]| seemed to$4$ Watt roughly the way in which the solution to$4$ the problem of how Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Knott's food was to$9$ be$1$ given to$4$ the dog had been reached, and though of course for 000:001;01[' ]| some time it can have$1$ been no more than a tissue now dilating now contracting of 000:001;01[' ]| thoughts in a skull, very likely very soon it was much more than this, for immense 000:001;01[' ]| impoverished families abounded for miles around in every conceivable direction, 000:001;01[' ]| and must have$1$ always done so, and very likely very soon a real live famished dog as 000:001;01[' ]| large as life was coming night after night as regular as clockwork to$4$ Mr. Knott's 000:001;01[' ]| back door, led by and probably preceding a unmistakable specimen of local 000:001;01[' ]| indigent proliferation, for everyone to$9$ see, and admire, and the pension being paid, 000:001;01[' ]| and every now and then when least expected a halfcrown bestowed, or a florin, or a 000:001;01[' ]| shilling, or a sixpence, or a threepence, or a penny, or a halfpenny, and the castoff 000:001;01[' ]| clothes, of which Mr. Knott, who was a great caster-off of 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| clothes, had a large store, being handed over, now a coat, now a waistcoat, now a 000:001;01[' ]| greatcoat, now a raincoat, now a trousers, now a knickerbockers, now a shirt, now a 000:001;01[' ]| vest, now a pant, now a combination, now a braces, now a belt, now a collar, now a 000:001;01[' ]| tie, now a scarf, now a muffler, now a hat, now a cap, now a stocking, now a sock, 000:001;01[' ]| now a boot and now a shoe, and the good words of counsel, of encouragement and 000:001;01[' ]| comfort spoken, and lavished the little acts of kindness and of love, just when they 000:001;01[' ]| were most needed, and the kennel of famished dogs handed over and in full swing, 000:001;01[' ]| for all the world to$9$ see, and admire. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The name of this fortunate family was Lynch and at the moment of Watt's entering 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Knott's service this family of Lynch was made up as follows. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| There was Tom Lynch, widower, aged eighty-five years, confined to$4$ his bed with 000:001;01[' ]| constant undiagnosed pains in the caecum, and his three surviving boys Joe, aged 000:001;01[' ]| sixty-five years, a rheumatic cripple, and Jim, aged sixty-four years, a hunch-backed 000:001;01[' ]| inebriate, and Bill, widower, aged sixty-three years, greatly hampered in his 000:001;01[' ]| movements by the loss of both legs as the result of a slip, followed by a fall, and his 000:001;01[' ]| only surviving daughter May Sharpe, widow, aged sixtytwo years, in full possession 000:001;01[' ]| of all her$2$ faculties with the exception of that of vision. Then there was Joe's wife ne=e 000:001;01[' ]| Doyly-Byrne, aged sixty-five years, a sufferer from Parkinson's palsy but otherwise 000:001;01[' ]| very fit and well, and Jim's wife Kate ne=e Sharpe aged sixty-four years, covered all 000:001;01[' ]| over with running sores of a unidentified nature but otherwise fit and well. Then 000:001;01[' ]| there was Joe's boy Tom aged fortyone years, unfortunately subject alternately to$4$ fits 000:001;01[' ]| of exaltation, which rendered him incapable of the least exertion, and of depression, 000:001;01[' ]| during which he could stir neither hand nor foot, and Bill's boy Sam, aged forty 000:001;01[' ]| years, paralysed by a merciful providence from no higher than the knees 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| down and from no lower than the waist up, and May's spinster daughter Ann, aged 000:001;01[' ]| thirty-nine years, greatly reduced in health and spirits by a painful congenital disorder of 000:001;01[' ]| a unmentionable kind, and Jim's lad Jack aged thirty-eight years, who was weak in the 000:001;01[' ]| head, and the boon twins Art and Con aged thirty-seven years, who measured in height 000:001;01[' ]| when in their stockinged feet three feet and four inches and who weighed in weight 000:001;01[' ]| when stripped to$4$ the buff seventy-one pounds all bone and sinew and between whom the 000:001;01[' ]| resemblance was so marked in every way that even those (and they were many) who 000:001;01[' ]| knew and loved them most would call Art Con when they meant Art, and Con Art when 000:001;01[' ]| they meant Con, at least as often as, if not more often than, they called Art Art when 000:001;01[' ]| they meant Art, and Con Con when they meant Con. And then there was young Tom's 000:001;01[' ]| wife Mag ne=e Sharpe aged forty-one years, greatly handicapped in her$2$ house and 000:001;01[' ]| outdoor activity by sub-epileptic seizures of monthly incidence, during which she rolled 000:001;01[' ]| foaming on the floor, or on the yard, or on the vegetable patch, or on the river's brim, 000:001;01[' ]| and seldom failed to$9$ damage herself in one way or another, so that she was obliged to$9$ go 000:001;01[' ]| to$4$ bed, and remain there, every month, until she was better, and Sam's wife Liz ne=e 000:001;01[' ]| Sharpe aged thirty-eight years, fortunate in being more dead than alive as a result of 000:001;01[' ]| having in the course of twenty years given Sam nineteen children, of whom four 000:001;01[' ]| survived, and again expecting, and poor Jack who it will be$1$ remembered was weak in 000:001;01[' ]| the head his wife Lil ne=e Sharpe aged thirty-eight years, who was weak in the chest. And 000:001;01[' ]| then to$9$ pass on to$4$ the next generation there was Tom's boy young Simon aged twenty, 000:001;01[' ]| whose it is painful to$9$ relate 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| and his young cousin wife his uncle Sam's girl Ann, aged 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| nineteen, whose it will be$1$ learnt with regret beauty and utility were greatly diminished 000:001;01[' ]| by two withered arms and a game leg of unsuspected tubercular origin, and Sam's two 000:001;01[' ]| surviving boys Bill and Mat aged eighteen and seventeen respectively, who having come 000:001;01[' ]| into this world respectively blind and maim were known as Blind Bill and Maim Mat 000:001;01[' ]| respectively, and Sam's other married daughter Kate aged twenty-one years, a fine girl 000:001;01[' ]| but a bleeder,<1> and her$2$ young cousin husband her$2$ uncle Jack's son Sean aged twenty-one 000:001;01[' ]| years, a sterling fellow but a bleeder too, and Frank's daughter Bridie aged fifteen years, 000:001;01[' ]| a prop and a stay to$4$ the family, sleeping as she did by day and at night receiving in the 000:001;01[' ]| toolshed so as not to$9$ disturb the family for twopence, or threepence, or fourpence, or 000:001;01[' ]| sometimes even fivepence a time, that depended, or a bottle of ale, and Jack's other son 000:001;01[' ]| Tom aged fourteen years, who some said took after his father because of the weakness 000:001;01[' ]| of his head and others said took after his mother because of the weakness of his chest 000:001;01[' ]| and some said took after his paternal grandfather Jim because of his taste for strong 000:001;01[' ]| spirits and others said took after his paternal grandmother Kate because of a patch he 000:001;01[' ]| had on the sacrum the size of a plate of weeping eczema and some said took after his 000:001;01[' ]| paternal greatgrandfather Tom because of the cramps he had in the stomach. And then 000:001;01[' ]| finally to$9$ pass on to$4$ the rising generation there were Sean's two little girls Rose and 000:001;01[' ]| Cerise, aged five and four respectively, and these innocent little girlies were bleeders 000:001;01[' ]| like their papa and mama, and indeed it was very wrong of Sean, knowing what he was 000:001;01[' ]| and knowing what Kate was, to$9$ do$1$ what he did to$4$ Kate, so that she conceived and 000:001;01[' ]| brought forth Rose, and indeed it was very wrong of her$6$ to$9$ let him, and indeed it was 000:001;01[' ]| very wrong of Sean again, 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| <1 Haemophilia is, like enlargement of the prostate, a exclusively male disorder. > 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| knowing what he was and what Kate was and now what Rose was, to$9$ do$1$ again what he 000:001;01[' ]| did again to$4$ Kate, so that Kate conceived again and brought forth Cerise, and indeed it 000:001;01[' ]| was very wrong of her$6$ again to$9$ let him again, and then there were Simon's two little 000:001;01[' ]| boys, Pat and Larry, aged four and three respectively, and little Pat was rickety with little 000:001;01[' ]| arms and legs like sticks and a big head like a balloon and a big belly like another, and 000:001;01[' ]| so was little Larry, and the only difference between little Pat and little Larry was this, 000:001;01[' ]| allowing for the slight difference in age, and name, that little Larry's legs were even 000:001;01[' ]| more like sticks than little Pat's, whereas little Pat's arms were even more like sticks than 000:001;01[' ]| little Larry's, and that little Larry's belly was a little less like a balloon than little Pat's, 000:001;01[' ]| whereas little Pat's head was a little less like a balloon than little Larry's. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Five generations, twenty-eight souls, nine hundred and eighty years, such was the proud 000:001;01[' ]| record of the Lynch family, when Watt entered Mr. Knott's service. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Then a moment passed and all was changed. Not that there was death, for there was not. 000:001;01[' ]| Nor that there was birth, for there was not either. But puff puff breath again they 000:001;01[' ]| breathed, in and out, the twenty-eight, and all was changed. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| As by the clouding the unclouding of the sun the sea, the lake, the ice, the plain, the 000:001;01[' ]| marsh, the mountain-side, or any other similar natural expanse, be it liquid or be it solid. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Till changing changing in twenty over twenty-eight equals five over seven times twelve 000:001;01[' ]| equals sixty over seven equals eight months and a half approximately, if none died, if 000:001;01[' ]| none were born, a thousand years! 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| If all were spared, the living spared, the unborn spared. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| In eight months and a half, from the date of Watt's entering Mr. Knott's service. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| <1 The figures given here are incorrect. The consequent calculations are therefore doubly> 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But all were not spared. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| For Watt had not been four months with Mr. Knott when Liz the wife of Sam lay 000:001;01[' ]| down and expelled a child, her$2$ twentieth, with the greatest of ease as may well be$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| imagined, and for some days after this agreeably surprised all those who knew her$6$ 000:001;01[' ]| (and they were many) by the unusual healthiness of her$2$ appearance and by a flow of 000:001;01[' ]| good spirits quite foreign to$4$ her$2$ nature, for for many years she had passed rightly for 000:001;01[' ]| more dead than alive, and she suckled the infant with great enjoyment and 000:001;01[' ]| satisfaction apparently, the flow of milk being remarkably abundant for a woman of 000:001;01[' ]| her$2$ age and habit of body, which was exsanguine, and then after five or six or 000:001;01[' ]| perhaps even seven days of this kind of thing grew suddenly weak and to$4$ the great 000:001;01[' ]| astonishment of her$2$ husband Sam, her$2$ sons Blind Bill and Maim Mat, her$2$ married 000:001;01[' ]| daughters Kate and Ann and their husbands Sean and Simon, her$2$ niece Bridie and 000:001;01[' ]| her$2$ nephew Tom, her$2$ sisters Mag and Lil, her$2$ brothers-in-law Tom and Jack, her$2$ 000:001;01[' ]| cousins Ann, Art and Con, her$2$ aunts-in-law May and Mag, her$2$ aunt Kate, her$2$ 000:001;01[' ]| uncles-in-law Joe and Jim, her$2$ father-in-law Bill and her$2$ grandfather-in-law Tom, 000:001;01[' ]| who were not expecting anything of the kind, grew weaker and weaker, until she 000:001;01[' ]| died. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| This loss was a great loss to$4$ the family Lynch, this loss of a woman of forty 000:001;01[' ]| good-looking years. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| For not only was a wife, a mother, a mother-in-law, a aunt, a sister, a sister-in-law, a 000:001;01[' ]| cousin, a niece-in-law, a niece, a niece-in-law, a daughter-in-law, a 000:001;01[' ]| granddaughterin-law and of course a grandmother, snatched from her$2$ 000:001;01[' ]| grandfather-in-law, her$2$ father-in-law, her$2$ uncles-in-law, her$2$ aunt, her$2$ aunts-in-law, 000:001;01[' ]| her$2$ cousins, her$2$ brothers-in-law, her$2$ sisters, her$2$ niece, her$2$ nephew, her$2$ sons-in-law, 000:001;01[' ]| her$2$ daughters, her$2$ sons, her$2$ husband and of course her$2$ four little grandchildren (who 000:001;01[' ]| however, exhibited no sign of 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| emotion other than that of curiosity, being too young no doubt to$9$ realize the dreadful 000:001;01[' ]| thing that had happened, for their total age amounted to$4$ no more than sixteen years), 000:001;01[' ]| never to$9$ return, but the Lynch millenium was retarded by almost one year and a half, 000:001;01[' ]| assuming that during that time all were spared, and so could not be$1$ expected before 000:001;01[' ]| roughly two years from the date of Liz's departure, instead of in a mere five months time 000:001;01[' ]| as would have$1$ been the case if Liz together with the rest of the family had been spared, 000:001;01[' ]| and even five or six days sooner if the infant had been spared also, as he was to$9$ be$1$ sure, 000:001;01[' ]| but at his mother's expense, with the result that the goal towards which the whole family 000:001;01[' ]| was striving receded to$4$ the tune of a good nineteen months, if not more, assuming all the 000:001;01[' ]| others to$9$ be$1$ spared, in the meantime. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But all the others were not spared, in the meantime. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| For two months had not passed, since the death of Liz, when to$4$ the amazement of the 000:001;01[' ]| entire family Ann retired to$4$ the privacy of her$2$ room and gave birth, first to$4$ a fine 000:001;01[' ]| bouncing baby boy, and then to$4$ a almost equally fine bouncing baby girl, and they did 000:001;01[' ]| not remain fine very long, nor did they long continue to$9$ bounce, but at their birth they 000:001;01[' ]| were both very fine indeed, and remarkably resilient. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| This brought the total number of souls in the Lynch household up to$4$ thirty, and the 000:001;01[' ]| happy day, on which the eyes of all were set, nearer by twenty-four days approximately, 000:001;01[' ]| assuming that all were spared, in the meantime. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Now the question that began on all hands openly to$9$ be$1$ asked was this, Who had done, or 000:001;01[' ]| whom had Ann persuaded to$9$ do$1$, this thing to$4$ Ann? For Ann was by no means a 000:001;01[' ]| attractive woman, and the painful disorder under which she laboured was a matter of 000:001;01[' ]| common knowledge, not only in the Lynch household, but for miles and miles around i 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| every direction. Several names were freely mentioned in this connexion. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Some said it was her$2$ cousin Sam, whose amorous disposition was notorious, not only 000:001;01[' ]| among the members of his immediate family, but throughout the neighbourhood, and 000:001;01[' ]| who made no secret of his having committed adultery locally on a large scale, moving 000:001;01[' ]| from place to$4$ place in his self-propelling invalid's chair, with widow women, with 000:001;01[' ]| married women and with single women, of whom some were young and attractive, and 000:001;01[' ]| others young but not attractive, and others attractive but not young, and others neither 000:001;01[' ]| young nor attractive, and of whom some as a result of Sam's intervention conceived and 000:001;01[' ]| brought forth a son or a daughter or two sons or two daughters or a son and a daughter, 000:001;01[' ]| for Sam had never managed triplets, and this was a sore point with Sam, that he had 000:001;01[' ]| never managed triplets, and others conceived but did not bring forth, and others did not 000:001;01[' ]| conceive at all, though this was exceptional, that they did not conceive at all, when Sam 000:001;01[' ]| intervened. And when reproached with this Sam with ready wit replied that paralysed as 000:001;01[' ]| he was, from the waist up, and from the knees down, he had no purpose, interest or joy 000:001;01[' ]| in life other than this, to$9$ set out after a good dinner of meat and vegetables in his 000:001;01[' ]| wheel-chair and stay out committing adultery until it was time to$9$ go home to$4$ his supper, 000:001;01[' ]| after which he was at his wife's disposal. But until then, so far as one knew, he had never 000:001;01[' ]| affronted Liz under her$2$ own roof, or, more strictly speaking, with any of the women that 000:001;01[' ]| it sheltered, though there were not wanting those to$9$ insinuate that he was the father of 000:001;01[' ]| his cousins Art and Con. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Others said it was her$2$ cousin Tom who, in a fit of exaltation or in a fit of depression, 000:001;01[' ]| had done this thing to$4$ Ann. And to$4$ those who objected to$4$ this that Tom, when in a fit of 000:001;01[' ]| exaltation, was incapable of the least exertion, and could 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| move neither hand nor foot, when in a fit of depression, it was replied that the exertion 000:001;01[' ]| and the motion here involved were not the exertion and the motion from which Tom's 000:001;01[' ]| fits debarred him, but another exertion and another motion, the suggestion being that the 000:001;01[' ]| inhibition was not a physical inhibition but a moral, or aesthetic, and that Tom's 000:001;01[' ]| recurrent inability on the one hand to$9$ discharge certain offices requiring on the part of 000:001;01[' ]| his bodily frame not the slightest expenditure of energy, such as that of keeping a eye 000:001;01[' ]| on the kettle, or on the saucepan, and on the other to$9$ move from where he stood, or sat, 000:001;01[' ]| or lay, or to$9$ reach out with his hand, or foot, for a tool, such as a hammer, or a chisel, or 000:001;01[' ]| for a kitchen utensil, such as a shovel, or a bucket, was in neither case a absolute 000:001;01[' ]| inability, but a inability limited by the nature of the office to$9$ be$1$ discharged, or the act 000:001;01[' ]| to$9$ be$1$ performed. And it was further with cynicism urged, in support of this view, that if 000:001;01[' ]| Tom had been asked to$9$ keep a eye, not on the kettle, or on the saucepan, but on his 000:001;01[' ]| niece Bridie dressing up for the night, he would have$1$ done so, however great his 000:001;01[' ]| depression at the time, and that his exaltation had often been observed to$9$ fall, with 000:001;01[' ]| remarkable abruptness, in the neighbourhood of a corkscrew and a bottle of stout. For 000:001;01[' ]| Ann though apparently plain and rotten with disease, had her$2$ partisans, both inside and 000:001;01[' ]| outside the house. And to$4$ those who objected that neither Ann's charms, nor her$2$ powers 000:001;01[' ]| of persuasion, could be$1$ compared with Bridie's, or with a bottle of stout's, it was replied 000:001;01[' ]| that if Tom had not done this thing in a fit of depression, or in a fit of exaltation, then he 000:001;01[' ]| had done it in the interval between a fit of depression and a fit of exaltation, or in the 000:001;01[' ]| interval between a fit of exaltation and a fit of depression, or in the interval between a fit 000:001;01[' ]| of depression and another fit of depression, or in the interval between a fit of exaltation 000:001;01[' ]| and another fit of exaltation, for with Tom depression and 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| exaltation were not of regular alternance, whatever may have$1$ been said to$4$ the 000:001;01[' ]| contrary, but often he emerged from one fit of depression only to$9$ be$1$ seized soon 000:001;01[' ]| after by another, and frequently he shook off one fit of exaltation only to$9$ fall into 000:001;01[' ]| the next almost at once, and in these brief intervals Tom would sometimes behave 000:001;01[' ]| most strangely, almost like a man who did not know what he was doing. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Some said it was her$2$ uncle Jack, who it will be$1$ remembered was weak in the head. 000:001;01[' ]| And to$4$ those who were not of this opinion those who were were good enough to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| point out that Jack was not only weak in the head, but married to$4$ a woman who was 000:001;01[' ]| weak in the chest, whereas this could not be$1$ said of Ann's chest, that it was weak, 000:001;01[' ]| whatever might be$1$ said of other parts of her$6$, for it was well known that Ann had a 000:001;01[' ]| splendid bosom, white and fat and elastic, and what could be$1$ more natural, in the 000:001;01[' ]| mind of a man like Jack, weak-minded and tied to$4$ a weak-chested woman, than that 000:001;01[' ]| the thought of this splendid part of Ann, so white, so fat and so elastic, should grow 000:001;01[' ]| and grow, whiter and whiter, fatter and fatter, and more and more elastic, until all 000:001;01[' ]| thought of those other parts of Ann (and they were numerous), where whiteness did 000:001;01[' ]| not dwell, nor fatness, nor elasticity, but greyness, and even greenness, and thinness, 000:001;01[' ]| and bagginess, were driven quite away. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Other names mentioned in this connexion were those of Ann's uncles Joe, Bill and 000:001;01[' ]| Jim, and of her$2$ nephews, Blind Bill and Maim Mat, Sean and Simon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| That none of Ann's kith and kin, but a stranger from without, had brought Ann to$4$ this 000:001;01[' ]| pass, was considered likely by many, and the names of many strangers from without 000:001;01[' ]| were freely mentioned, in this connexion. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Then some four months later, when winter seemed safely past, and spring in the air 000:001;01[' ]| by some was even felt, the brothers Joe, Bill and Jim, or a grand total of more 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| than one hundred and ninety-three years, in the short space of one week were carried 000:001;01[' ]| off, Joe the eldest being carried off on a Monday, and Bill his junior by one year on the 000:001;01[' ]| following Wednesday, and Jim their junior by two years and one year respectively on 000:001;01[' ]| the Friday following, leaving old Tom sonless, and May and Kate husbandless and May 000:001;01[' ]| Sharpe brotherless, and Tom and Jack and Art and Con and Sam fatherless, and Mag 000:001;01[' ]| and Lil father-in-lawless, and Ann uncleless, and Simon and Ann and Bridie and Tom 000:001;01[' ]| and Sean and Kate and Bill and Mat and Sam's infant by the late Liz grandfatherless, 000:001;01[' ]| and Rose and Cerise and Pat and Larry great-grandfatherless. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| This set back the longed-for day, on which the Lynches' eyes still were fixed, though 000:001;01[' ]| with less confidence than before, by no less than seventeen years approximately, that is 000:001;01[' ]| to$9$ say$1$ far beyond the horizon of expectation or even hope. For old Tom, for example, 000:001;01[' ]| grew daily worse, and was heard to$9$ say$1$, Why was me three boys took, and me with me 000:001;01[' ]| gripes left?, suggesting that it would have$1$ been preferable, in his opinion, if his boys, 000:001;01[' ]| who whatever their suffering did not suffer from unremitting agony in the caecum, had 000:001;01[' ]| been left, and he, with his gripes, taken, and many other members of the family also 000:001;01[' ]| grew daily worse and could not be$1$ expected to$9$ live, very much longer. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Then they were sorry for what they had said who had said it was her$2$ Uncle Joe and who 000:001;01[' ]| said it was her$2$ Uncle Bill, and who had said it was her$2$ Uncle Jim who had done this 000:001;01[' ]| thing to$4$ Ann, for all three had confessed their sins, to$4$ the priest, prior to$4$ being carried 000:001;01[' ]| away, and the priest was a old and intimate friend of the family. And from the corpses 000:001;01[' ]| of the brothers in a cloud the voices rose and hovering sank to$4$ rest among the living, 000:001;01[' ]| here some, there others, here some again, there others again, until hardly one living but 000:001;01[' ]| had his voice, and not one voice but was at rest. And 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| of those who had been in agreement, many were now in disagreement, and of those who 000:001;01[' ]| had been in disagreement, many now were in agreement, though some that had agreed 000:001;01[' ]| agreed still, and some that had disagreed still disagreed. And so new friendships were 000:001;01[' ]| formed, and new enmities, and old friendships preserved, and old enmities. And all was 000:001;01[' ]| agreement and disagreement and amity and enmity, as before, only redistributed. And 000:001;01[' ]| not one voice but was either for or against, no, not one. But all was objection and answer 000:001;01[' ]| and answer and objection, as before, only in other mouths. Not that many did not go on 000:001;01[' ]| saying what they had always said, for many did. But still more did not. And the reason 000:001;01[' ]| for that was perhaps this, that not only were those who had said what they had said of 000:001;01[' ]| Jim, of Bill and of Joe, now by the deaths of Joe, of Bill and of Jim incapacitated from 000:001;01[' ]| going on doing so and obliged to$9$ find something new to$9$ say$1$, because Bill, Joe and Jim, 000:001;01[' ]| for all their foolishness, were not so foolish as to$9$ allow themselves to$9$ be$1$ carried away 000:001;01[' ]| without owning up to$4$ the priest to$4$ what they had done to$4$ Ann, if they had done it, but 000:001;01[' ]| also a great number of those who had never said anything of Jim, of Joe and of Bill, in 000:001;01[' ]| this connexion, unless it was that they had not done this thing to$4$ Ann, and who were 000:001;01[' ]| therefore in no way by the deaths of Joe, of Jim and of Bill incapacitated from going on 000:001;01[' ]| saying what they had always said, in this connexion, nevertheless preferred, when they 000:001;01[' ]| heard some of those who had always spoken against them, and against whom they had 000:001;01[' ]| always spoken, now speaking with them, to$9$ cease saying what they had always said, in 000:001;01[' ]| this connexion, and to$9$ begin saying something quite new, in order that they might 000:001;01[' ]| continue to$9$ hear speaking against them, and themselves to$9$ speak against, the greatest 000:001;01[' ]| possible number of those who, prior to$4$ the deaths of Bill, of Joe and of Jim, had always 000:001;01[' ]| spoken against them, and against whom they had 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| always spoken. For it is a strange thing but apparently true, that those who speak 000:001;01[' ]| speak rather for the pleasure of speaking against than for the pleasure of speaking 000:001;01[' ]| with, and the reason for that is perhaps this, that in agreement the voice can not be$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| raised perhaps quite so high as it can in disagreement. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| This little matter of the food and the dog, Watt pieced it together from the remarks 000:001;01[' ]| let fall, every now and then, in the evening, by the twin dwarfs Art and Con. For it 000:001;01[' ]| was they who led the famished dog, every evening, to$4$ the door. They had done this 000:001;01[' ]| since the age of twelve, that is to$9$ say$1$ for the past quarter of a century, and they 000:001;01[' ]| continued to$9$ do$1$ so all the time that Watt remained in Mr. Knott's house, or rather all 000:001;01[' ]| the time that he remained on the ground-floor, for when Watt was moved to$4$ the 000:001;01[' ]| first-floor, then Watt lost touch with the ground-floor, and saw no more the dog, nor 000:001;01[' ]| them who brought it. But surely it was still Art and Con who led the dog, every 000:001;01[' ]| evening, at nine o'clock, to$4$ Mr. Knott's back door, even when Watt was no longer 000:001;01[' ]| there to$9$ witness it, for they were sturdy little fellows, and wrapped up in their work. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The dog in service when Watt entered Mr. Knott's service was the sixth dog that Art 000:001;01[' ]| and Con had employed, in this manner, in twenty-five years. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The dogs employed to$9$ eat Mr. Knott's occasional remains were not long-lived, as a 000:001;01[' ]| rule. This was very natural. For besides what the dog got to$9$ eat, every now and then, 000:001;01[' ]| on Mr. Knott's back doorstep, it got so to$9$ speak nothing to$9$ eat. For if it had been 000:001;01[' ]| given food other than the food that Mr. Knott gave it, from time to$4$ time, then its 000:001;01[' ]| appetite might have$1$ been spoilt, for the food that Mr. Knott gave it. For Art and Con 000:001;01[' ]| could never be$1$ certain, in the morning, that there would not be$1$ waiting for their dog, 000:001;01[' ]| in the evening, on Mr. Knott's back doorstep, a pot of food so nourishing, 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| and so copious, that only a thoroughly famished dog could get it down. And this was the 000:001;01[' ]| eventuality for which it was their duty to$9$ be$1$ always prepared. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Add to$4$ this that Mr. Knott's food was a little on the rich and heating side, for a dog. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Add to$4$ this that the dog was seldom off the chain, and so got no exercise worth 000:001;01[' ]| mentioning. This was inevitable. For if the dog had been set free, to$9$ run about, as it 000:001;01[' ]| pleased, then it would have$1$ eaten the horsedung, on the road, and all the other nasty 000:001;01[' ]| things that abound, on the ground, and so ruined its appetite, perhaps for ever, or worse 000:001;01[' ]| still would have$1$ run away, and never come back. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The name of this dog, when Watt entered Mr. Knott's service, was Kate. Kate was not at 000:001;01[' ]| all a handsome dog. Even Watt, whom his fondness for rats prejudiced against dogs, had 000:001;01[' ]| never seen a dog that he less liked the look of than Kate. It was not a large dog, and yet 000:001;01[' ]| it could not be$1$ called a small dog. It was a medium-sized dog, of repulsive aspect. It was 000:001;01[' ]| called Kate not as might be$1$ supposed after Jim's Kate, so soon to$9$ be$1$ made a widow, but 000:001;01[' ]| after quite a different Kate, a certain Katie Byrne, who was a kind of cousin of Joe's wife 000:001;01[' ]| May, so soon to$9$ be$1$ made a widow too, and this Katie Byrne was a great favourite with 000:001;01[' ]| Art and Con, to$4$ whom she always brought a gift of tobacco twist, when she came on a 000:001;01[' ]| visit, and Art and Con were great chewers of tobacco twist, and never had enough, never 000:001;01[' ]| never had enough tobacco twist, for their liking. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Kate died while Watt was still on the ground-floor, and was replaced by a dog called 000:001;01[' ]| Cis. Watt did not know whom this dog was called after. If he had enquired, if, coining 000:001;01[' ]| out into the open, he had said, Con, or, Art, Kate I know was called after your relative, 000:001;01[' ]| Katie Byrne, but after whom is Cis called?, then he might have$1$ learnt what he so desired 000:001;01[' ]| to$9$ know. But there were limits to$4$ what Watt 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| was prepared to$9$ do$1$, in pursuit of information. There were times when he was half 000:001;01[' ]| tempted to$9$ believe, as he observed the effect that this name had on Art and Con, 000:001;01[' ]| notably when associated with certain injunctions, that it was the name of a friend of 000:001;01[' ]| theirs, a near and dear friend, and that it was in honour of this near and dear friend 000:001;01[' ]| that they had given the dog the name of Cis rather than some other name. But this 000:001;01[' ]| was a mere conjecture, and at other times Watt was more inclined to$9$ believe that if 000:001;01[' ]| the dog was called Cis, it was not on account of some living person's being called 000:001;01[' ]| Cis, no, but simply because the dog had to$9$ be$1$ called something, to$9$ distinguish it, for 000:001;01[' ]| itself, and for others, from all the other dogs, and that Cis was as good a name as any 000:001;01[' ]| other, and indeed prettier than many. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Cis was still alive when Watt left the ground-floor, for the first-floor. What became 000:001;01[' ]| of her$6$ later, and of the dwarfs, he had no idea. For once on the first-floor Watt lost 000:001;01[' ]| sight of the ground-floor, and interest in the ground-floor. This was indeed a merciful 000:001;01[' ]| coincidence, was it not, that at the moment of Watt's losing sight of the ground-floor, 000:001;01[' ]| he lost interest in it also. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| It was part of Watt's duties to$9$ receive Art and Con, when they called in the evening 000:001;01[' ]| with the dog, and, when there was food for the dog, to$9$ witness the dog's eating the 000:001;01[' ]| food, until not a atom remained. But after the first few weeks Watt abruptly ceased, 000:001;01[' ]| on his own responsibility, to$9$ discharge this office. From then on, when there was 000:001;01[' ]| food for the dog, he put it outside the door, on the doorstep, in the dog's dish, and he 000:001;01[' ]| lit a light in the passage window, so that the doorstep should not be$1$ in darkness, even 000:001;01[' ]| on the darkest night, and he contrived, for the dog's dish, a little lid that could be$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| fastened down, by means of clasps, of clasps that clasped tight the sides, of the dish. 000:001;01[' ]| And Art and Con grew to$9$ know that when the dog's dish was not on 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| the doorstep, waiting for them, then there was no food for Kate, or Cis. They did not 000:001;01[' ]| need to$9$ knock, and enquire, no, the bare doorstep was enough. And they even grew to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| know that when there was no light in the passage window, then there was no food, for 000:001;01[' ]| the dog. And they learned also not to$9$ advance any further, in the evening, than the place 000:001;01[' ]| whence they could see the passage window, and then to$9$ advance farther only if there 000:001;01[' ]| was a light, in the window, and always to$9$ go away, without advancing any farther, if 000:001;01[' ]| there was none. This was unfortunately of small practical assistance to$4$ Art and Con, for 000:001;01[' ]| coming as one did, suddenly, round a corner of the bushes, on the back door, one did not 000:001;01[' ]| see the passage window, which was beside the back door, until one was so close to$4$ the 000:001;01[' ]| back door that one could have$1$ touched it with one's stick, if one had wished. But Art and 000:001;01[' ]| Con gradually learned to$9$ tell, from no less a distance than ten or fifteen paces, whether 000:001;01[' ]| there was a light in the passage window, or not. For the light, though hidden by the 000:001;01[' ]| corner, shone through the passage window and made a glow, in the air, a glow that could 000:001;01[' ]| be$1$ seen, especially when the night was dark, from no less a distance than ten or fifteen 000:001;01[' ]| paces. Thus all that Art and Con had to$9$ do$1$, when the night was favourable, was to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| advance a little way along the avenue, until they reached the place whence the light, if it 000:001;01[' ]| was burning, must be$1$ visible, as a glow, a feeble glow, in the air, and thence to$9$ go on, 000:001;01[' ]| towards the back door, or to$9$ go back, towards the gate, as the case might be$1$. In the 000:001;01[' ]| height of summer to$9$ be$1$ sure, only the doorstep bare, or surmounted by the dog's dish, 000:001;01[' ]| could tell Art and Con and Kate, or Cis, whether there was food for the dog, or not. For 000:001;01[' ]| in the height of summer Watt did not set a light, in the passage window, when there was 000:001;01[' ]| food for the dog, no, for in the height of summer the doorstep was not dark until coming 000:001;01[' ]| up to$4$ ten-thirty, or eleven, at night, but 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| burning with all the raging dying summer light, for it looked west, the back doorstep. 000:001;01[' ]| And to$9$ set a light in the passage window, under these conditions, would have$1$ been a 000:001;01[' ]| mere waste of oil. But for more than three-quarters of the year Art's and Con's task 000:001;01[' ]| was greatly lightened as a result of Watt's refusal to$9$ be$1$ present when the dog ate the 000:001;01[' ]| food, and of the measures he was obliged to$9$ take, in consequence. Then Watt, if he 000:001;01[' ]| had put out the plate, a little after eight, took it in again, a little before ten, and 000:001;01[' ]| washed it up, in readiness for the morrow, before he locked up for the night and went 000:001;01[' ]| up to$4$ his bed, holding the lamp high above his head, to$9$ guide his feet, on the stairs, 000:001;01[' ]| the stairs that never seemed the same stairs, from one night to$4$ another, and now were 000:001;01[' ]| steep, and now shallow, and now long, and now short, and now broad, and now 000:001;01[' ]| narrow, and now dangerous, and now safe, and that he climbed, among the moving 000:001;01[' ]| shadows, every night, shortly after ten o'clock. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| This refusal, by Knott, I beg your pardon, by Watt, to$9$ assist at the eating, by the dog, 000:001;01[' ]| of Mr. Knott's remains, might have$1$ been supposed to$9$ have$1$ the gravest consequences, 000:001;01[' ]| both for Watt and for Mr. Knott's establishment. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt expected something of this kind. And yet he could not have$1$ done otherwise, 000:001;01[' ]| than he did. It was in vain that he had no love for dogs, greatly preferring rats, he 000:001;01[' ]| could not have$1$ done otherwise, believe it or not, than he did. As it was, nothing 000:001;01[' ]| happened, but all went on, as before, apparently. No punishment fell on Watt, no 000:001;01[' ]| thunderbolt, and Mr. Knott's establishment swam on, through the unruffled nights 000:001;01[' ]| and days, with all its customary serenity. And this was a great source of wonder, to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| Watt, that he had infringed, with impunity, such a venerable tradition, or institution. 000:001;01[' ]| But he was not so foolish as to$9$ found in this a principle of conduct, or a precedent of 000:001;01[' ]| rebelliousness, no no, for Watt was only too willing to$9$ do$1$ as he was told, and 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| as custom required, at all times. And when he was forced to$9$ transgress, as in the 000:001;01[' ]| matter of witnessing the dog's meal, then he was at pains to$9$ transgress in such a way, 000:001;01[' ]| and to$9$ surround his transgression with such precautions, such delicacies, that it was 000:001;01[' ]| almost as though he had not transgressed at all. And perhaps this was counted to$4$ him 000:001;01[' ]| for grace. And he stilled the wonder the trouble in his mind, by reflecting that if he 000:001;01[' ]| went unpunished for the moment, he would not perhaps always go unpunished, and 000:001;01[' ]| that if the hurt to$4$ Mr. Knott's establishment did not at once appear, it would perhaps 000:001;01[' ]| one day appear, a little bruise at first, and then a bigger, and then a bigger still, until, 000:001;01[' ]| growing, growing, it blackened the entire body. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| For reasons that remain obscure Watt was, for a time, greatly interested, and even 000:001;01[' ]| fascinated, by this matter of the dog, the dog brought into the world, and maintained 000:001;01[' ]| there, at considerable expense, for the sole purpose of eating Mr. Knott's food, on 000:001;01[' ]| those days on which Mr. Knott was not pleased to$9$ eat it himself, and he attached to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| this matter a importance, and even a significance, that seem hardly warranted. For 000:001;01[' ]| otherwise would he have$1$ gone into the matter at such length? And would he have$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| gone into the Lynch family at such length if, in thought, he had not been obliged to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| pass, from the dog, to$4$ the Lynches, as to$4$ one of the terms of the relation that the dog 000:001;01[' ]| wove nightly, the other of course being Mr. Knott's remains. But much more than 000:001;01[' ]| with the Lynches, or with Mr. Knott's remains, Watt's concern, while it lasted, was 000:001;01[' ]| with the dog. But it did not last long, this concern of Watt's, not very long, as such 000:001;01[' ]| concerns go. And yet it was a major concern, of that period, while it lasted. But once 000:001;01[' ]| Watt had grasped, in its complexity, the mechanism of this arrangement, how the 000:001;01[' ]| food came to$9$ be$1$ left, and the dog to$9$ be$1$ available, and the two to$9$ be$1$ united, then it 000:001;01[' ]| interested him no more, and he enjoyed a comparative 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| peace of mind, in this connexion. Not that for a moment Watt supposed that he had 000:001;01[' ]| penetrated the forces at play, in this particular instance, or even perceived the forms 000:001;01[' ]| that they upheaved, or obtained the least useful information concerning himself, or 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Knott, for he did not. But he had turned, little by little, a disturbance into words, 000:001;01[' ]| he had made a pillow of old words, for his head. Little by little, and not without 000:001;01[' ]| labour. Kate eating from her$2$ dish, for example, with the dwarfs standing by, how he 000:001;01[' ]| had laboured to$9$ know what that was, to$9$ know which the doer, and what the doer, and 000:001;01[' ]| what the doing, and which the sufferer, and what the sufferer, and what the suffering, 000:001;01[' ]| and what those shapes, that were not rooted to$4$ the ground, like the veronica, but 000:001;01[' ]| melted away, into the dark, after a while. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Erskine was for ever running up the stairs and down them again. Not so Watt, who 000:001;01[' ]| came down only once a day, when he got up, to$9$ begin his day, and only once a day 000:001;01[' ]| went up, when he lay down, to$9$ begin his night. Unless when, in his bedroom, in the 000:001;01[' ]| morning, or in the kitchen, in the evening, he left something behind, that he could 000:001;01[' ]| not do$1$ without. Then of course he went back, up, or down, to$9$ fetch this thing, 000:001;01[' ]| whatever it was. But this was very rare. For what could Watt leave behind, that he 000:001;01[' ]| could not do$1$ without, for a day, for a night? His handkerchief perhaps. But Watt 000:001;01[' ]| never used a handkerchief. His slopbag. No, he would not have$1$ gone back down all 000:001;01[' ]| the way expressly for his slopbag. No, there was so to$9$ speak nothing that Watt could 000:001;01[' ]| forget, that he could not do$1$ without, for the fourteen or fifteen hours that his day 000:001;01[' ]| lasted, for the ten or nine hours that his night lasted. And yet every now and then he 000:001;01[' ]| did forget something, some tiny little thing, so that he was obliged to$9$ return and fetch 000:001;01[' ]| it, for he could not have$1$ got on, through his day, through his night, without it. But 000:001;01[' ]| this was very rare. And otherwise he stayed quietly where 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| he was, on the second-floor in his little bedroom by night, 000:001;01[' ]| and by day on the ground-floor in the kitchen mostly, or wherever else his duties 000:001;01[' ]| might take him, or in the pleasure garden up and down, or in a tree, or sitting on the 000:001;01[' ]| ground against a tree or bush, or on a rustic seat. For to$4$ the firstfloor his duties never 000:001;01[' ]| took him, at this period, nor to$4$ the second, once he had made his bed, and swept 000:001;01[' ]| clean his little room, which he did every morning the first thing, before coming 000:001;01[' ]| down, on a empty stomach. Whereas Erskine never did a tap on the ground-floor, 000:001;01[' ]| but all his duties were on the first-floor. Now Watt did not know, nor care to$9$ ask, in 000:001;01[' ]| what exactly these duties consisted. But whereas Watt's ground-floor duties kept him 000:001;01[' ]| quietly on the ground-floor, Erskine's first-floor duties did not keep Erskine quietly 000:001;01[' ]| on the first-floor, but for ever he was flying up the stairs from the first-floor to$4$ the 000:001;01[' ]| second-floor and down them again from the second-floor to$4$ the first-floor and down 000:001;01[' ]| the stairs from the first-floor to$4$ the ground-floor and up them again from the 000:001;01[' ]| ground-floor to$4$ the first-floor, for no reason that Watt could see, though to$9$ be$1$ sure 000:001;01[' ]| this was a matter in which Watt could not be$1$ expected to$9$ see very far, because he did 000:001;01[' ]| not know, and did not care to$9$ ask, in what exactly Erskine's duties on the first-floor 000:001;01[' ]| consisted. Now this is not to$9$ say$1$ that Erskine did not spend a great deal of his time 000:001;01[' ]| quietly on the first-floor, for he did, but only that the number of times in the day that 000:001;01[' ]| he went flying up and down again and down and up again seemed to$4$ Watt 000:001;01[' ]| extraordinary. And what further seemed to$4$ Watt extraordinary was the shortness of 000:001;01[' ]| time that Erskine spent up, when he flew up, before flying down again, and the 000:001;01[' ]| shortness of time that he spent down, when he flew down, before flying up again, 000:001;01[' ]| and of course the rapidity of his flight, as though he were always in a hurry to$9$ get 000:001;01[' ]| back. And if it were asked how Watt, who was never on the second-floor 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| from morning to$4$ night, could know how long Erskine spent on the second-floor, 000:001;01[' ]| when he went there in this way, the answer to$4$ that would perhaps be$1$ this, that Watt, 000:001;01[' ]| from where he sat in the bottom of the house, could hear Erskine hasten up the stairs 000:001;01[' ]| to$4$ the top of the house, and then hasten down them again to$4$ the middle of the house, 000:001;01[' ]| almost without pause. And the reason for that was perhaps this, that the sound came 000:001;01[' ]| down the kitchen chimney. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt did not care to$9$ enquire in so many words into the meaning of all this, for he 000:001;01[' ]| said, All this will be$1$ revealed to$4$ Watt, in due time, meaning of course when Erskine 000:001;01[' ]| went, and another came. But he was not easy until he had said, in short and isolated 000:001;01[' ]| phrases, or fragments of phrases, separated by considerable periods of time from one 000:001;01[' ]| another, Perhaps Mr. Knott sends him now upstairs, and now downstairs, on this 000:001;01[' ]| errand and on that, saying, But hasten back to$4$ me, Erskine, do not delay, but hasten 000:001;01[' ]| back to$4$ me. But what kind of errand? Perhaps to$9$ fetch him something that he has 000:001;01[' ]| forgotten, and that suddenly he feels the need of, such as a nice book, or piece of 000:001;01[' ]| cotton wool or tissue paper. Or perhaps to$9$ look out of a top window, to$9$ make sure 000:001;01[' ]| that nobody is coming, or to$9$ have$1$ a quick look round below stairs, to$9$ make sure that 000:001;01[' ]| no danger threatens the foundations. But am I not here, below stairs, somewhere 000:001;01[' ]| about, on the alert? But it may be$1$ that Mr. Knott has more confidence in Erskine, 000:001;01[' ]| who has been here longer than I, than in me, who have not been here so long as 000:001;01[' ]| Erskine. And yet that does not seem like Mr. Knott, to$9$ be$1$ ever wanting this or that 000:001;01[' ]| and sending Erskine flying to$9$ see to$4$ it. But what do I know of Mr. Knott? Nothing. 000:001;01[' ]| And what to$4$ me may seem most unlike him, and what to$4$ me may seem most like 000:001;01[' ]| him, may in reality be$1$ most like him, most unlike him, for all I can tell. Or perhaps 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Knott sends Erskine flying up and down in this way, simply in order to$9$ be$1$ rid of 000:001;01[' ]| him 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| if only for a few moments. Or perhaps Erskine, finding the first-floor trying, is 000:001;01[' ]| obliged to$9$ run upstairs every now and then for a breath of the second-floor, and then 000:001;01[' ]| every now and then downstairs for a breath of the ground-floor, or even garden, just 000:001;01[' ]| as in certain waters certain fish, in order to$9$ support the middle depths, are forced to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| rise and fall, now to$4$ the surface of the waves and now to$4$ the ocean bed. But do such 000:001;01[' ]| fish exist? Yes, such fish exist, now. But trying in what way? Perhaps who knows 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Knott propagates a kind of waves, of depression, or oppression, or perhaps now 000:001;01[' ]| these, now those, in a way that it is impossible to$9$ grasp. But that does not at all agree 000:001;01[' ]| with my conception of Mr. Knott. But what conception have I of Mr. Knott? None. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt wondered if Arsene, Walter, Vincent and the others had passed through the 000:001;01[' ]| same phase as that through which Erskine then was passing, and he wondered if he 000:001;01[' ]| Watt would pass through it too, when his time came. Watt could not easily imagine 000:001;01[' ]| Arsene ever behaving in such a way, nor himself either for that matter. But there 000:001;01[' ]| were many things that Watt could not easily imagine. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Sometimes in the night Mr. Knott pressed a bell that sounded in Erskine's room, and 000:001;01[' ]| then Erskine got up and went down. This Watt knew, for from his bed where he lay 000:001;01[' ]| not far away he would hear the bell sound ting! and Erskine get up and go down. He 000:001;01[' ]| would hear the sound of the bell because he was not asleep, or only half asleep, or 000:001;01[' ]| sleeping only lightly. For it is rare that the sound of a bell not far away is not beard 000:001;01[' ]| by the only half asleep, the only lightly sleeping. Or he would hear, not the sound of 000:001;01[' ]| the bell, but the sound of Erskine getting up and going down, which came to$4$ the 000:001;01[' ]| same thing. For would Erskine have$1$ got up and gone down if the bell had not 000:001;01[' ]| sounded? No. He might have$1$ got up, without the bell's sounding, to$9$ do$1$ his number 000:001;01[' ]| one, or number two, in his great big chamber pot. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But get up and go down, without the bell's sounding, no. At other times, when Watt was 000:001;01[' ]| sleeping deeply, or plunger in meditation, or otherwise engrossed, then of course the bell 000:001;01[' ]| might sound and sound and Erskine get up and get up and go down and go down and 000:001;01[' ]| Watt be$1$ not a whit the wiser. But that did not matter. For Watt had heard the bell sound, 000:001;01[' ]| and Erskine got up and go down, often enough to$9$ know that sometimes in the night Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Knott pressed a bell and that then Erskine, doubtless in obedience to$4$ the summons, got 000:001;01[' ]| up and went down. For were there other fingers in the house, and other thumbs, than Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Knott's and Erskine's and Watt's, that might have$1$ pressed the bell? For by what but by a 000:001;01[' ]| finger, or by a thumb, could the bell have$1$ been pressed? By a nose? A toe? A heel? A 000:001;01[' ]| projecting tooth? A knee? a elbow? or some other prominent bony or fleshy process? 000:001;01[' ]| No doubt. But whose, if not Mr. Knott's? Watt had not pressed a bell with any part of 000:001;01[' ]| him, of that he was morally certain, for there was no bell in his room that he could have$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| pressed. And if he had got back into his room, and into his bed, and sometimes even 000:001;01[' ]| fallen into a light sleep, in time to$9$ hear, from where he lay, in his bed, the bell sound? 000:001;01[' ]| The fact was that Watt had never seen a bell, in any part of Mr. Knott's house, or heard 000:001;01[' ]| one, under any other circumstances than those that so perplexed him. On the ground-floor 000:001;01[' ]| there was no bell of any kind, he could vouch for that, or so cunningly dissembled 000:001;01[' ]| that no trace appeared, on the walls, or the doorposts. There was the telephone, to$9$ be$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| sure, in a passage. But what sounded in Erskine's room, in the night, was not a 000:001;01[' ]| telephone, Watt was sure of that, but a bell, a simple bell, a simple little probably white 000:001;01[' ]| electric bell, of the kind that one presses until it sounds ting! and then lets spring back, 000:001;01[' ]| to$4$ the position 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| of silence. Similarly Erskine, if he had pressed the bell, must have$1$ pressed it in his own 000:001;01[' ]| room, and indeed from where he lay, in his bed, as was manifest from the noise that 000:001;01[' ]| Erskine made in getting out of bed, immediately the bell rang. But was it likely that 000:001;01[' ]| there was a bell in Erskine s room, that he could press, from his bed, when there was no 000:001;01[' ]| bell of any kind in any part of Watt's room? And even if there was a bell in Erskine's 000:001;01[' ]| room, that he could press without leaving his bed, what interest could Erskine have$1$ in 000:001;01[' ]| pressing it, when he knew that at the sound of the bell he must leave his warm bed and 000:001;01[' ]| go downstairs, inadequately clothed? If Erskine wished to$9$ leave his snug bed and go 000:001;01[' ]| downstairs, half naked, could he not have$1$ done so without pressing a bell beforehand? 000:001;01[' ]| Or was Erskine out of his mind? And he himself Watt, was he not perhaps slightly 000:001;01[' ]| deranged? And Mr. Knott himself, was he quite right in his head? Were they not all 000:001;01[' ]| three perhaps a little off the hooks? The question of who pressed the bell that sounded in 000:001;01[' ]| Erskine's room, in the night, was a great source of worry to$4$ Watt, for a time, and kept 000:001;01[' ]| him awake at night, on the 7qui 7vive. If Erskine had been a snorer, and the sound of the 000:001;01[' ]| bell coincided with the sound of a snore, then the mystery, it seemed to$4$ Watt, would 000:001;01[' ]| have$1$ been dissipated, as the mist, by the sun. But there, Erskine was not a snorer. And 000:001;01[' ]| yet to$9$ look at him, or hear him sing his song, you would have$1$ taken him for a snorer, a 000:001;01[' ]| great snorer. And yet he was not a snorer. So the sound of the bell came always on the 000:001;01[' ]| stillness. But on further reflection it seemed to$4$ Watt that the bell's coinciding with the 000:001;01[' ]| snore would not have$1$ dissipated the mystery, but left it entire. For might not Erskine 000:001;01[' ]| simulate a snore, at the very moment that he reached out with his arm and pressed the 000:001;01[' ]| bell, or might he not simulate a long series of snores culminating in the snore that he 000:001;01[' ]| simulated as he pressed the bell, in order to$9$ deceive Watt and make 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| him think that it was not he Erskine who pressed the bell, but Mr. Knott, in some 000:001;01[' ]| other part of the house? So the fact finally that Erskine did not snore, and that the 000:001;01[' ]| sound of the bell came always on the silence, made Watt think, not that the bell 000:001;01[' ]| might be$1$ pressed by Erskine, as at first it had made him think, no, but that the bell 000:001;01[' ]| must be$1$ pressed by Mr. Knott. For if Erskine pressed the bell, and did not wish it 000:001;01[' ]| known, then he would utter a snore, or in some other way dissemble, as he pressed 000:001;01[' ]| the bell, in order to$9$ make Watt think that it was not he Erskine who pressed the bell, 000:001;01[' ]| but Mr. Knott. But then it occurred to$4$ Watt that Erskine might press the bell not 000:001;01[' ]| caring whether it were known or not, that it was he who did so, and that in that case 000:001;01[' ]| he would not trouble to$9$ utter a snore, or otherwise dissemble, as he pressed the bell, 000:001;01[' ]| but let the sound of the bell come on the stillness, for Watt to$9$ make of what he 000:001;01[' ]| would. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt decided in the end that a examination of Erskine's room was essential, if his 000:001;01[' ]| mind was to$9$ be$1$ pacified, in this connexion. Then he would be$1$ able to$9$ put the matter 000:001;01[' ]| from him, and forget it, as one puts from one and forgets the peel of a orange, or of 000:001;01[' ]| a banana. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt might have$1$ asked Erskine, he might have$1$ said, Tell me, Erskine, is there a bell 000:001;01[' ]| in your room, or is there not? But this would have$1$ put Erskine on his guard, and Watt 000:001;01[' ]| did not desire that. Or Erskine might have$1$ answered, Yes!, when the true answer 000:001;01[' ]| was, No!, or, No!, when the true answer was, Yes!, or he might have$1$ answered truly, 000:001;01[' ]| Yes!, or, No!, and Watt been unable to$9$ believe him. And then Watt would have$1$ been 000:001;01[' ]| no better off than before, but rather worse, for he would have$1$ set Erskine on his 000:001;01[' ]| guard. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Now Erskine's room was always locked, and the key in Erskine's pocket. Or rather, 000:001;01[' ]| Erskine's room was never unlocked, nor the key out of Erskine's pocket, longer than 000:001;01[' ]| two or three seconds at a stretch, which was the time that 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Erskine took to$9$ take the key from his pocket, unlock his door on the outside, glide into 000:001;01[' ]| his room, lock his door again on the inside and slip the key back into his pocket, or take 000:001;01[' ]| the key from his pocket, unlock his door on the inside, glide out of his room, lock the 000:001;01[' ]| door again on the outside and slip the key back into his pocket. For if Erskine's room had 000:001;01[' ]| been always locked, and the key always in Erskine's pocket, then Erskine himself, for all 000:001;01[' ]| his agility, would have$1$ been hard set to$9$ glide in and out of his room, in the way he did, 000:001;01[' ]| unless he had glided in and out by the window, or the chimney. But in and out by the 000:001;01[' ]| window he could not have$1$ glided, without breaking his neck, nor in and out by the 000:001;01[' ]| chimney, without being crushed to$4$ death. And this was true also of Watt. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The lock was of a kind that Watt could not pick. Watt could pick simple locks, but he 000:001;01[' ]| could not pick obscure locks. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The key was of a kind that Watt could not counterfeit. Watt could counterfeit simple 000:001;01[' ]| keys, in a workshop, in a vice, with a file and solder, filing down and building up 000:001;01[' ]| another and quite different simple key, until the two simplicities were quite alike. But 000:001;01[' ]| Watt could not counterfeit obscure keys. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Another reason why Watt could not counterfeit Erskine's key was this, that he could not 000:001;01[' ]| obtain possession of it, even for a moment. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Then how did Watt know that Erskine's key was not a simple key? Why, for having 000:001;01[' ]| turned and twisted his little wire in the hole. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Then Watt said, Obscure keys may open simple locks, but simple keys obscure locks 000:001;01[' ]| never. But Watt had hardly said this when he regretted having done so. But then it was 000:001;01[' ]| too late, the words were said and could never be$1$ forgotten, never undone. But a little 000:001;01[' ]| later he regretted them less. And a little later he did not regret them at all. And a little 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| later they pleased him again, no less than when they had first sounded, so gentle, so 000:001;01[' ]| cajoling, in his skull. And then again a little later he regretted them again, most bitterly. 000:001;01[' ]| And so on. Until there were few degrees of remorse, few of complacency, but more 000:001;01[' ]| particularly of remorse, with which Watt was not familiar, with reference to$4$ these 000:001;01[' ]| words. And this is perhaps worthy of mention, because it was with Watt a common 000:001;01[' ]| experience, where words were concerned. And though it sometimes happened that a 000:001;01[' ]| moment's pensiveness was sufficient to$9$ fix his attitude, once and for all, towards words 000:001;01[' ]| when they sounded, so that he liked them, or disliked them, more or less, with a 000:001;01[' ]| inalterable like or dislike, yet this did not happen often, no, but thinking now this, now 000:001;01[' ]| that, he did not in the end know what to$9$ think, of the words that had sounded, even when 000:001;01[' ]| they were plain and modest like the above, of a meaning so evident, and a form so 000:001;01[' ]| inoffensive, that made no matter, he did not know what to$9$ think of them, from one year's 000:001;01[' ]| end to$4$ the next, whether to$9$ think poorly of them, or highly of them, or with indifference. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| And if Watt had not known this, that Erskine's key was not a simple key, then I should 000:001;01[' ]| never have$1$ known it either, nor the world. For all that I know on the subject of Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Knott, and of all that touched Mr. Knott, and on the subject of Watt, and of all that 000:001;01[' ]| touched Watt, came from Watt, and from Watt alone. And if I do not appear to$9$ know 000:001;01[' ]| very much on the subject of Mr. Knott and of Watt, and on the subject of all that 000:001;01[' ]| touched them, it is because Watt did not know a great deal on these subjects, or did not 000:001;01[' ]| care to$9$ tell. But he assured me at the time, when he began to$9$ spin his yarn, that he would 000:001;01[' ]| tell all, and then again, some years later, when he had spun his yarn, that he had told all. 000:001;01[' ]| And as I believed him then and then again, so I continued to$9$ believe him, long after the 000:001;01[' ]| yarn was spun, 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| and Watt gone. Not that there is any proof that Watt did indeed tell all he knew, on 000:001;01[' ]| these subjects, or that he set out to$9$ do$1$ so, for how could there be$1$, I knowing nothing 000:001;01[' ]| on these subjects, except what Watt told me. For Erskine, Arsene, Walter, Vincent 000:001;01[' ]| and the others had all vanished, long before my time. Not that Erskine, Arsene, 000:001;01[' ]| Walter, Vincent and the others could have$1$ told anything of Watt, except perhaps 000:001;01[' ]| Arsene a little, and Erskine a little more, for they could not, but they might have$1$ told 000:001;01[' ]| something of Mr. Knott. Then we would have$1$ had Erskine's Mr. Knott, and Arsene's 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Knott, and Walter's Mr. Knott, and Vincent's Mr. Knott, to$9$ compare with Watt's 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Knott. That would have$1$ been a very interesting exercise. But they all vanished, 000:001;01[' ]| long before my time. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| This does not mean that Watt may not have$1$ left out some of the things that 000:001;01[' ]| happened, or that were, or that he may not have$1$ foisted in other things that never 000:001;01[' ]| happened, or never were. Mention has already been made of the difficulties that Watt 000:001;01[' ]| encountered in his efforts to$9$ distinguish between what happened and what did not 000:001;01[' ]| happen, between what was and what was not, in Mr. Knott's house. And Watt made 000:001;01[' ]| no secret of this, in his conversations with me, that many things described as 000:001;01[' ]| happening, in Mr. Knott's house, and of course grounds, perhaps never happened at 000:001;01[' ]| all, or quite differently, and that many things described as being, or rather as not 000:001;01[' ]| being, for these were the more important, perhaps were not, or rather were all the 000:001;01[' ]| time. But apart from this, it is difficult for a man like Watt to$9$ tell a long story like 000:001;01[' ]| Watt's without leaving out some things, and foisting in others. And this does not 000:001;01[' ]| mean either that I may not have$1$ left out some of the things that Watt told me. or 000:001;01[' ]| foisted in others that Watt never told me, though I was most careful to$9$ note down all 000:001;01[' ]| at the time, in my little notebook. It is so difficult, with a long story like the story that 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt told, even when one is most careful to$9$ note down all at the time, in one's little 000:001;01[' ]| notebook, not to$9$ leave out some of the things that were told, and not to$9$ foist in other 000:001;01[' ]| things that were never told, never never told at all. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Nor was the key the kind of key of which a impression could be$1$ taken, in wax, or 000:001;01[' ]| plaster, or putty, or butter, and the reason for that was this, that possession of the key 000:001;01[' ]| could not be$1$ obtained, even for a moment. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| For the pocket in which Erskine kept this key was not the kind of pocket that Watt 000:001;01[' ]| could pick. For it was no ordinary pocket, no, but a secret one, sewn on to$4$ the front 000:001;01[' ]| of Erskine's underhose. If the pocket in which Erskine kept this key had been a 000:001;01[' ]| ordinary pocket, such as a coat pocket, of a trousers pocket, or even a waistcoat 000:001;01[' ]| pocket, then Watt, by picking the pocket when Erskine was not looking, might have$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| obtained possession of the key for long enough to$9$ record its impression in wax, or 000:001;01[' ]| plaster, or putty, or butter. Then when he had recorded the impression he could have$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| put the key back in the same pocket as the pocket from which he had taken it, having 000:001;01[' ]| first taken care to$9$ wipe it clean, with a damp cloth. But to$9$ pick a pocket sewn on to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| the front of a man's underhose, even when the man was looking the other way, 000:001;01[' ]| without arousing suspicion, was not, Watt knew, in his power. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Now if Erskine had been a lady ... But there, Erskine was not a lady. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| And if it were asked how it is known that the pocket in which Erskine kept this key 000:001;01[' ]| was sewn on to$4$ the front of his underhose, the answer to$4$ that would be$1$ this, that one 000:001;01[' ]| day when Erskine was doing his number one against a bush, Watt, who as Lachesis 000:001;01[' ]| would have$1$ it was doing his number one too against the same bush, but on the other 000:001;01[' ]| side, caught a glimpse, through the bush, for it was a deciduous bush, of the key, 000:001;01[' ]| gleaming among the flap buttons. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| And so always, when the impossibility of my knowing, of Watt's having known, what 000:001;01[' ]| I know, What Watt knew, seems absolute,and insurmountable, and undeniable, and 000:001;01[' ]| uncoercible, it could be$1$ shown that I know, because Watt told me, and that Watt 000:001;01[' ]| knew, because someone told him, or because he found out for himself. For I know 000:001;01[' ]| nothing, in this connexion, but what Watt told me. And Watt knew nothing, on this 000:001;01[' ]| subject, but what he was told, or found out for himself, in one way or in another. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt might have$1$ broken the door down, with a axe, or a crow, or a small charge of 000:001;01[' ]| explosive, but this might have$1$ aroused Erskine's suspicions, and Watt did not want 000:001;01[' ]| that, 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| So that what with one thing and another, and with Watt's not wishing this, and with 000:001;01[' ]| Watt's not wanting that, it seemed that Watt, as he was then, could never get into 000:001;01[' ]| Erskine's room, never never get into Erskine's room, as it was then, and that for Watt 000:001;01[' ]| to$9$ get into Erskine's room, as they were then, Watt would have$1$ to$9$ be$1$ another man, or 000:001;01[' ]| Erskine's room another room. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| And yet, without Watt's ceasing to$9$ be$1$ what he was, and without the room's ceasing to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| be$1$ what it was, Watt did get into the room, and there learned what he wished to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| know. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Ruse a by, he said, and as he said, Ruse a by, he blushed, until his nose seemed a 000:001;01[' ]| normal colour, and hung his head, and twisted and untwisted his big red bony hands. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| There was a bell in Erskine's room, but it was broken. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The only other object of note in Erskine's room was a picture, hanging on the wall, 000:001;01[' ]| from a nail. A circle, obviously described by a compass, and broken at its lowest 000:001;01[' ]| point, occupied the middle foreground, of this picture. Was it receding? Watt had 000:001;01[' ]| that impression. In the eastern background appeared a point, or dot. The 000:001;01[' ]| circumference was black. The point was blue, but blue! The rest was white. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| How the effect of perspective was obtained Watt did not know. But it was obtained. 000:001;01[' ]| By what means the illusion of movement in space, and it almost seemed in time, was 000:001;01[' ]| given, Watt could not say$1$. But it was given. Watt wondered how long it would be$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| before the point and circle entered together upon the same plane. Or had they not 000:001;01[' ]| done so already, or almost? And was it not rather the circle that was in the 000:001;01[' ]| background, and the point that was in the foreground? Watt wondered if they had 000:001;01[' ]| sighted each other, or were blindly flying thus, harried by some force of merely 000:001;01[' ]| mechanical mutual attraction, or the playthings of chance. He wondered if they 000:001;01[' ]| would eventually pause and converse, and perhaps even mingle, or keep steadfast on 000:001;01[' ]| their ways, like ships in the night, prior to$4$ the invention of wireless telegraphy. Who 000:001;01[' ]| knows, they might even collide. And he wondered what the artist had intended to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| represent (Watt knew nothing about painting), a circle and its centre in search of 000:001;01[' ]| each other, or a circle and its centre in search of a centre and a circle respectively, or 000:001;01[' ]| a circle and its centre in search of its centre and a circle respectively, or a circle and 000:001;01[' ]| its centre in search of a centre and its circle respectively, or a circle and a centre not 000:001;01[' ]| its centre in search of its centre and its circle respectively, or a circle and a centre not 000:001;01[' ]| its centre in search of a centre and a circle respectively, or a circle and a centre not 000:001;01[' ]| its centre in search of its centre and a circle respectively, or a circle and a centre not 000:001;01[' ]| its centre in search of a centre and its circle respectively, in boundless space, in 000:001;01[' ]| endless time (Watt knew nothing about physics), and at the thought that it was 000:001;01[' ]| perhaps this, a circle and a centre not its centre in search of a centre and its circle 000:001;01[' ]| respectively, in boundless space, in endless time, then Watt's eyes filled with tears 000:001;01[' ]| that he could not stem, and they flowed down his fluted cheeks unchecked, in a 000:001;01[' ]| steady flow, refreshing him greatly. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt wondered how this picture would look upside down, with the point west and 000:001;01[' ]| the breach north, or on its right side, with the point north and the breach cast, or on 000:001;01[' ]| its left side, with the point south and the breach west. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| So he took it from its hook and held it before his eyes, at arm's length, upside down, 000:001;01[' ]| and on its right side, and on its left side. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But in these positions the picture pleased Watt less than it had when on the wall. And 000:001;01[' ]| the reason for that was perhaps this, that the breach ceased to$9$ be$1$ below. And the 000:001;01[' ]| thought of the point slipping in from below at last, when it came home at last, or to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| its new home, and the thought of the breach open below perhaps for ever in vain, 000:001;01[' ]| these thoughts, to$9$ please Watt as they did, required the breach to$9$ be$1$ below, and 000:001;01[' ]| nowhere else. It is by the nadir that we come, said Watt, and it is by the nadir that we 000:001;01[' ]| go, whatever that means. And the artist must have$1$ felt something of this kind too, for 000:001;01[' ]| the circle did not turn, as circles will, but sailed steadfast in its white skies, with its 000:001;01[' ]| patient breach for ever below. So Watt put it back on its hook, in the position in 000:001;01[' ]| which he had found it. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt did not of course wonder all these things at the time, but some he wondered at 000:001;01[' ]| the time, and the others subsequently. But those that he wondered at the time, he 000:001;01[' ]| again wondered subsequently, together with those that he did not wonder at the time, 000:001;01[' ]| over and over again. And many other things in this connexion also, of which some at 000:001;01[' ]| the time, and the others subsequently, Watt wondered subsequently also, time 000:001;01[' ]| without number. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| One of these had to$9$ do$1$ with the property. Did the picture belong to$4$ Erskine, or had it 000:001;01[' ]| been brought and left behind by some other servant, or was it part and parcel of Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Knott's establishment? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Prolonged and irksome meditations forced Watt to$4$ the 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| conclusion that the picture was part and parcel of Mr. Knott's establishment. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The question to$4$ this answer was the following, of great importance in Watt's opinion. 000:001;01[' ]| Was the picture a fixed and stable member of the edifice, like Mr. Knott's bed, for 000:001;01[' ]| example, or was it simply a manner of paradigm, here today and gone tomorrow, a term 000:001;01[' ]| in a series, like the series of Mr. Knott's dogs, or the series of Mr. Knott's men, or like 000:001;01[' ]| the centuries that fall, from the pod of eternity? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| A moment's reflexion satisfied Watt that the picture had not been long in the house, and 000:001;01[' ]| that it would not remain long in the house, and that it was one of a series. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| There were times when Watt could reason rapidly, almost as rapidly as Mr. Nackybal. 000:001;01[' ]| And there were other times when his thought moved with such extreme slowness that it 000:001;01[' ]| seemed not to$9$ move at all, but to$9$ be$1$ at a standstill. And yet it moved, like Galileo's 000:001;01[' ]| cradle. Watt was greatly worried by this disparity. And indeed it contained cause for 000:001;01[' ]| worry. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt had more and more the impression, as time passed, that nothing could be$1$ added to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Knott's establishment, and from it nothing taken away, but that as it was now, so it 000:001;01[' ]| had been in the beginning, and so it would remain to$4$ the end, in all essential respects, 000:001;01[' ]| any significant presence, at any time, and here all presence was significant, even though 000:001;01[' ]| it was impossible to$9$ say$1$ of what, proving that presence at all times, or a equivalent 000:001;01[' ]| presence, and only the face changing, but perhaps the face ever changing, even as 000:001;01[' ]| perhaps even Mr. Knott's face ever slowly changed. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| This supposition, as far as the picture was concerned, was to$9$ be$1$ strikingly confirmed, 000:001;01[' ]| before long. And of the numberless suppositions elaborated by Watt, during his stay in 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Knott's house, this was the only one to$9$ be$1$ confirmed, or for that matter infirmed, by 000:001;01[' ]| events (if one may speak here of events), or rather the only passage to$9$ be$1$ confirmed, the 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| only passage of the long supposition, the long dwindling supposition, that constituted 000:001;01[' ]| Watt's experience in Mr. Knott's house, and of course grounds, to$9$ be$1$ confirmed. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Yes, nothing changed, in Mr. Knott's establishment, because nothing remained, and 000:001;01[' ]| nothing came or went, because all was a coming and a going. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt seemed highly pleased with this tenth-rate xenium. Spoken as he spoke it, back to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| front, it had a certain air, it is true. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But what preoccupied Watt most of all, towards the end of his stay on the ground-floor, 000:001;01[' ]| was the question as to$4$ how long he would remain, on the ground-floor, and in his then 000:001;01[' ]| bedroom, before being transferred to$4$ the first-floor, and to$4$ Erskine's bedroom, and then 000:001;01[' ]| how long he would remain, on the first-floor, and in Erskine's bedroom, before leaving 000:001;01[' ]| the place for ever. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt did not for a moment doubt that the ground-floor went with his bedroom, and the 000:001;01[' ]| first-floor with Erskine's. Yet what could be$1$ more uncertain, than such a 000:001;01[' ]| correspondence? As there seemed no measure between what Watt could understand, and 000:001;01[' ]| what he could not, so there seemed none between what he deemed certain, and what he 000:001;01[' ]| deemed doubtful. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt's feeling in this matter was that he would serve Mr. Knott for one year on the 000:001;01[' ]| ground-floor, and then for another year on the first-floor. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| In support of this monstrous assumption he assembled the following considerations. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| If the period of service, first on the ground-floor, and then on the first-floor, was not one 000:001;01[' ]| year, then it was less than one year, or more than one year. But if it was less than one 000:001;01[' ]| year, then there was want, seasons passing, or a season, or a month, or a week, or a day, 000:001;01[' ]| wholly or in part, on which the light of Mr. Knott's service had not shone, nor its dark 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| brooded, a page of the discourse of the earth unturned. For in a year all is said, in any 000:001;01[' ]| given latitude. But if it was more than one year, then there was surfeit, seasons 000:001;01[' ]| passing, or a season, or a month, or a week, or a day, wholly or in part, twice through 000:001;01[' ]| the beams the shadows of the service of Mr. Knott, a fragment of rigmarole re-read. 000:001;01[' ]| For the new year says nothing new, to$4$ the man fixed in space. Therefore on the 000:001;01[' ]| ground-floor one year, and on the first another, for the light of the day of the 000:001;01[' ]| ground-floor was not as the light of the day of the first-floor (notwithstanding their 000:001;01[' ]| proximity) nor were the lights of their nights the same lights. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But even Watt could not hide from himself for long the absurdity of these 000:001;01[' ]| constructions, which assumed the period of service to$9$ be$1$ the same for every servant, 000:001;01[' ]| and invariably divided into two phases of equal duration. And he felt that the period 000:001;01[' ]| and distribution of service must depend on the servant, on his abilities, and on his 000:001;01[' ]| needs; that there were short-time men and long-time men, ground-floor men and 000:001;01[' ]| first-floor men; that what one might exhaust, what might exhaust one, in two months, 000:001;01[' ]| another might not, might not another, in ten years; and that to$4$ many on the 000:001;01[' ]| ground-floor the nearness of Mr. Knott must long be$1$ a horror, and long a horror to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| others on the first his farness. But he had hardly felt the absurdity of those things, on 000:001;01[' ]| the one hand, and the necessity of those others, on the other (for it is rare that the 000:001;01[' ]| feeling of absurdity is not followed by the feeling of necessity), when he felt the 000:001;01[' ]| absurdity of those things of which he had just felt the necessity (for it is rare that the 000:001;01[' ]| feeling of necessity is not followed by the feeling of absurdity). For the service to$9$ be$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| considered was not the service of one servant, but of two servants, and even of three 000:001;01[' ]| servants, and even of a infinity of servants, of whom the first could not out till the 000:001;01[' ]| second up, nor the second up till the third in, nor the third in till the first out, nor the 000:001;01[' ]| first out till the 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| third in, nor the third in till the second up, nor the second up till the first out, every 000:001;01[' ]| going, every being, every coming consisting with a being and a coming, a coming and a 000:001;01[' ]| going, a going and a being, nay with all the beings and all the comings, with all the 000:001;01[' ]| comings and all the goings, with all the goings and all the beings, of all the servants that 000:001;01[' ]| had ever served Mr. Knott, of all the servants that ever would serve Mr. Knott. And in 000:001;01[' ]| this long chain of consistence, a chain stretching from the long dead to$4$ the far unborn, 000:001;01[' ]| the notion of the arbitrary could only survive as the notion of a pre-established arbitrary. 000:001;01[' ]| For take any three or four servants, Tom, Dick, Harry and another, if Tom serves two 000:001;01[' ]| years on the first-floor, then Dick serves two years on the ground-floor, and then Harry 000:001;01[' ]| comes, and if Dick serves ten years on the first-floor, then Harry serves ten years on the 000:001;01[' ]| ground-floor, and then the other comes, and so on for any number of servants, the period 000:001;01[' ]| of service of any given servant on the ground-floor coinciding always with the period of 000:001;01[' ]| service on the first-floor of his predecessor, and terminating with the arrival of his 000:001;01[' ]| successor on the premises. But Tom's two years on the first-floor are not because of 000:001;01[' ]| Dick's two years on the ground-floor, or of Harry's coming then, and Dick's two years on 000:001;01[' ]| the ground-floor are not because of Tom's two years on the first-floor, or of Harry's 000:001;01[' ]| coming then, and Harry's coming then is not because of Tom's two years on the 000:001;01[' ]| first-floor, or of Dick's two years on the ground-floor, and Dick's ten years on the 000:001;01[' ]| first-floor are not because of Harry's ten years on the ground-floor, or of the other's 000:001;01[' ]| coming then, and Harry's ten years on the groundfloor are not because of Dick's ten 000:001;01[' ]| years on the first-floor, or of the other's coming then, and the other's coming then is not 000:001;01[' ]| because of (tired of underlining this cursed preposition) Dick's ten years on the 000:001;01[' ]| first-floor, or of Harry's ten years on the ground-floor, no, that would be$1$ too horrible to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| contemplate 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| but Tom's two years on the first-floor, and Dick's two years on the ground-floor, and 000:001;01[' ]| Harry's coming then, and Dick's ten years on the first-floor, and Harry's ten years on the 000:001;01[' ]| ground-floor, and the other's coming then, are because Tom is Tom, and Dick Dick, and 000:001;01[' ]| Harry Harry, and that other that other, of that the wretched Watt was persuaded. For 000:001;01[' ]| otherwise in Mr. Knott's door, and on the way from Mr. Knott's door, there would be$1$ a 000:001;01[' ]| languor, and a fever, the langour of the task done but not ended, the fever of the task 000:001;01[' ]| ended but not done, the languor and the fever of the coming too late, the languor and the 000:001;01[' ]| fever of the coming of the going too soon. But to$4$ Mr. Knott, and with Mr. Knott, and 000:001;01[' ]| from Mr. Knott, were a coming and a being and a going exempt from languor, exempt 000:001;01[' ]| from fever, for Mr. Knott was harbour, Mr. Knott was haven, calmly entered, freely 000:001;01[' ]| ridden, gladly left. Driven, riden, bidden, by the storms without, the storms within? The 000:001;01[' ]| storms without! The storms within! Men like Vincent and Walter and Arsene and 000:001;01[' ]| Erskine and Watt! Haw! No. But in the stress, in the threat, in the call of storm, in the 000:001;01[' ]| need, in the having, in the losing of refuge, calm and freedom and gladness. Not that 000:001;01[' ]| Watt felt calm and free and glad, for he did not, and had never done so. But he thought 000:001;01[' ]| that perhaps he felt calm and free and glad, or if not calm and glad, at least calm and 000:001;01[' ]| free, or free and glad, or glad and calm, or if not calm and free, or free and glad, or glad 000:001;01[' ]| and calm, at least calm, or free, or glad, without knowing it. But why Tom Tom? And 000:001;01[' ]| Dick Dick? And Harry Harry? Because Dick Dick and Harry Harry? Because Harry 000:001;01[' ]| Harry and Tom Tom? Because Tom Tom and Dick Dick? Watt saw no objection. But it 000:001;01[' ]| was a conception of which for the moment he had no need, and conceptions of which 000:001;01[' ]| for the moment Watt had no need 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt did not for the moment unfurl, but left standing, as one does not unfurl, but leaves 000:001;01[' ]| standing, in readiness for a rainy day, one's umbrella in one's umbrella-stand. And the 000:001;01[' ]| reason why Watt for the moment had no need of this conception was perhaps this, that 000:001;01[' ]| when one's arms are full of waxen lilies, then one does not stop to$9$ pick, or smell, or 000:001;01[' ]| chuck or otherwise acknowledge, a daisy, or a primrose, or a cowslip, or a buttercup, or 000:001;01[' ]| a violet, or a dandelion, or a daisy, or a primrose, or any other flower of the field, or any 000:001;01[' ]| other weed, but treads them down, and when the weight is past, and past the bowed head 000:001;01[' ]| buried blinded in the white sweetness, then little by little under the load of petals the 000:001;01[' ]| bruised stems straighten, those that is that have been fortunate enough to$9$ escape rupture. 000:001;01[' ]| For it was not the Tomness of Tom, the Dickness of Dick, the Harryness of Harry, 000:001;01[' ]| however remarkable in themselves, that preoccupied Watt, for the moment, but their 000:001;01[' ]| Tomness, their Dickness, their Harryness then, their then-Tomness, then-Dickness, 000:001;01[' ]| then-Harryness; nor the ordaining of a being to$9$ come by a being past, of a being past by 000:001;01[' ]| a being to$9$ come (no doubt in itself a fascinating study), as in a musical composition bar 000:001;01[' ]| a hundred say by say bar ten and bar say ten by bar a hundred say, but the interval 000:001;01[' ]| between them, the ninety bars, the time taken to$9$ have$1$ been true, the time taken to$9$ be$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| proved true, whatever that is. Or of course false, whatever that means. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| So at first, in mind as well as body, Watt laboured at the ancient labour. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| And so Watt, having opened this tin with his blowlamp, found it empty. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| As it turned out, Watt was never to$9$ know how long he spent in Mr. Knott's house, how 000:001;01[' ]| long on the ground-floor, how long on the first-floor, how long altogether. All he could 000:001;01[' ]| say$1$ was that it seemed a long time. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Thinking then, in search of rest, of the possible relations between such series as these, 000:001;01[' ]| the series of dogs, the series of men, the series of pictures, to$9$ mention only these series, 000:001;01[' ]| Watt remembered a distant summer night, in a no less distant land, and Watt young and 000:001;01[' ]| well lying all alone stone sober in the ditch, wondering if it was the time and the place 000:001;01[' ]| and the loved one already, and the three frogs croaking Krak!, Krek! and Krik!, at one, 000:001;01[' ]| nine, seventeen, twenty-five, etc., and at one, six, eleven, sixteen, etc., and at one, four, 000:001;01[' ]| seven, ten, etc., respectively, and how he heard 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Krak! 000:001;01[' ]| Krek! Krek! 000:001;01[' ]| Krik! Krik! Krik! 000:001;01[' ]| Krak! 000:001;01[' ]| Krek! Krek! 000:001;01[' ]| Krik! Krik! Krik! 000:001;01[' ]| Krak! 000:001;01[' ]| Krek! 000:001;01[' ]| Krik! Krik! 000:001;01[' ]| Krak! 000:001;01[' ]| Krek! Krek! 000:001;01[' ]| Krik! Krik! Krik! 000:001;01[' ]| Krak! 000:001;01[' ]| Krek! 000:001;01[' ]| Krik! Krik! Krik! 000:001;01[' ]| Krak! 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Kreck! Kreck! 000:001;01[' ]| Krik! Krik! 000:001;01[' ]| Krak! 000:001;01[' ]| Kreck! Krek! 000:001;01[' ]| Krik! Krik! Krik! 000:001;01[' ]| Krak! 000:001;01[' ]| Krek! 000:001;01[' ]| Krik! Krik! Krik! 000:001;01[' ]| Krak! 000:001;01[' ]| Krek! Krek! 000:001;01[' ]| Krik! Krik! 000:001;01[' ]| Krak! 000:001;01[' ]| Kreck! 000:001;01[' ]| Krik! Krik! Krik! 000:001;01[' ]| Krak! 000:001;01[' ]| Krek! Kreck! 000:001;01[' ]| Krik! Krik! Krik! 000:001;01[' ]| Krak! 000:001;01[' ]| Krek! Kreck! 000:001;01[' ]| Krik! Krik! 000:001;01[' ]| Krak! 000:001;01[' ]| Krek! 000:001;01[' ]| Krik! Krik! Krik! 000:001;01[' ]| Krak! 000:001;01[' ]| Krek! Kreck! 000:001;01[' ]| Krik! Krik! Krik! 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Krak! 000:001;01[' ]| Krek! 000:001;01[' ]| Krik! Krik! 000:001;01[' ]| Krak! 000:001;01[' ]| Krek! 000:001;01[' ]| Krik! 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The fishwoman pleased Watt greatly. Watt was not a woman's man, but the fishwoman 000:001;01[' ]| pleased him greatly. Other women would perhaps please him more, later. But of all the 000:001;01[' ]| women who had ever pleased him up till then, not one could hold a candle to$4$ this 000:001;01[' ]| fishwoman, in Watt's opinion. And Watt pleased the fishwoman. This was a merciful 000:001;01[' ]| coincidence, that they pleased each other. For if the fishwoman had pleased Watt, 000:001;01[' ]| without Watt's pleasing the fishwoman, or if Watt had pleased the fishwoman, without 000:001;01[' ]| the fishwoman's pleasing Watt, then what would have$1$ become of Watt, or of the 000:001;01[' ]| fishwoman? Not that the fishwoman was a man's woman, for she was not, being of a 000:001;01[' ]| advanced age and by nature also denied those properties that attract men to$4$ women, 000:001;01[' ]| unless it was perhaps the remains of a distinguished carriage, acquired from the habit of 000:001;01[' ]| carrying her$2$ basket of fish on her$2$ head, over long distances. Not that a man, without 000:001;01[' ]| possessing any of those properties that attract women to$4$ men, may not be$1$ a woman's 000:001;01[' ]| man, nor that a woman, without possessing any of those properties that attract men to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| women, may not be$1$ man's woman, for they may. And Mrs. Gorman had had several 000:001;01[' ]| admirers, both before and after Mr. Gorman, and even during Mr. Gorman, and Watt at 000:001;01[' ]| least two welldefined romances, in the course of his celibate. Watt was not a man's man 000:001;01[' ]| either, possessing as he did none of those properties that attract men to$4$ men, though of 000:001;01[' ]| course he 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| had had male friends (what wretch has not?) on more than one occasion. Not that 000:001;01[' ]| Watt might not have$1$ been a man's man, without possessing any of those properties 000:001;01[' ]| that attract men to$4$ men, for he might. But it happened that he was not. As to$4$ whether 000:001;01[' ]| Mrs. Gorman was a woman's woman, or not, that is one of those things that is not 000:001;01[' ]| known. On the one hand she may have$1$ been, on the other she may not. But it seems 000:001;01[' ]| probable that she was not. Not that it is by any means impossible for a man to$9$ be$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| both a man's man and a woman's man, or for a woman to$9$ be$1$ both a woman's woman 000:001;01[' ]| and a man's woman, almost in the same breath. For with men and women, with men's 000:001;01[' ]| men and women's men, with men's women and women's women, with men's and 000:001;01[' ]| women's men, with men's and women's women, all is possible, as far as can be$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| ascertained, in this connexion. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mrs. Gorman called every Thursday, except when she was indisposed. Then she did 000:001;01[' ]| not call, but stayed at home, in bed, or in a comfortable chair, before the fire, if the 000:001;01[' ]| weather was cold, and by the open windown, if the weather was warm, and if the 000:001;01[' ]| weather was neither cold nor warm, by the closed window or before the empty 000:001;01[' ]| hearth. So Thursday was the day that Watt preferred, to$4$ all other days. Some prefer 000:001;01[' ]| Sunday, others Monday, others Tuesday, others Wednesday, other Friday, others 000:001;01[' ]| Saturday, But Watt preferred Thursday, because Mrs. Gorman called on Thursday. 000:001;01[' ]| Then he would have$1$ her$6$ in the kitchen, and open for her$6$ a bottle of stout, and set her$6$ 000:001;01[' ]| on his knee, and wrap his right arm around her$2$ waist, and lean his head upon her$2$ 000:001;01[' ]| right breast (the left having unhappily been removed in the heat of a surgical 000:001;01[' ]| operation), and in the position remain, without stirring, or stirring the least possible, 000:001;01[' ]| forgetful of his troubles, for as long as ten minutes, or a quarter of a hour. And Mrs. 000:001;01[' ]| Gorman too, as with her$2$ left hand she stirred the grey-pink tufts and with her$2$ right at 000:001;01[' ]| studied intervals raise 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| the bottle to$4$ her$2$ lips, was in her$2$ own small way at peace too, for a time. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| From time to$4$ time, hoisting his weary head, from waist to$4$ neck his weary hold 000:001;01[' ]| transferring, Watt would kiss, in a despairing manner, Mrs. Gorman on or about the 000:001;01[' ]| mouth, before crumpling back into his post-crucified position. And these kisses, 000:001;01[' ]| when their first feverish force began to$9$ fail, that is to$9$ say$1$ very shortly following their 000:001;01[' ]| application, it was Mrs. Gorman's invariable habit to$9$ catch up, as it were, upon her$2$ 000:001;01[' ]| own lips, and return, with tranquil civility, as one picks up a glove, or newspaper, let 000:001;01[' ]| fall in some public place, and restores it with a smile, if not a bow, to$4$ its rightful 000:001;01[' ]| proprietor. So that each kiss was in reality two kisses, first Watt's kiss, velleitary, 000:001;01[' ]| anxious, and then Mrs. Gorman's, unctious and urbane. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But Mrs. Gorman did not always sit on Watt, for sometimes Watt sat on Mrs. 000:001;01[' ]| Gorman. Some days Mrs. Gorman was on Watt all the time, other days Watt was on 000:001;01[' ]| Mrs. Gorman. Nor were there lacking days when Mrs. Gorman began by sitting on 000:001;01[' ]| Watt, and ended by having Watt sitting on her$6$, or when Watt began by sitting on 000:001;01[' ]| Mrs. Gorman, and ended by having Mrs. Gorman sitting on him. For Watt was apt to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| tire, before the time came for Mrs. Gorman to$9$ take her$2$ leave, of having Mrs. Gorman 000:001;01[' ]| sitting on him, or of sitting himself on Mrs. Gorman. Then, if it was Mrs. Gorman on 000:001;01[' ]| Watt, and not Watt on Mrs. Gorman, then he would urge her$6$ gently off his lap, to$4$ her$2$ 000:001;01[' ]| feet, on the floor, and he himself rise, until they who but a moment before had both 000:001;01[' ]| been seated, she on him, he on the chair, now stood, side by side, on their feet, on the 000:001;01[' ]| floor. And then together they would sink to$4$ rest, Watt and Mrs. Gorman, the latter on 000:001;01[' ]| the chair, the former on the latter. But if it was not Mrs. Gorman on Watt, but Watt 000:001;01[' ]| on Mrs. Gorman, then he would climb down from off her$2$ knees, and raise 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| her$6$ gently by the hand to$4$ her$2$ feet, and take her$2$ place (bending his knees) on the 000:001;01[' ]| chair, and draw her$6$ down (spreading his thighs) among his lap. And so little could 000:001;01[' ]| Watt support, on certain days, on the one hand the pressure of Mrs. Gorman from 000:001;01[' ]| above, and on the other the thrust of Mrs. Gorman from below, that no fewer than 000:001;01[' ]| two, or three, or four, or five, or six, or seven, or eight, or nine, or ten, or eleven, or 000:001;01[' ]| even twelve, or even thirteen, changes of position were found necessary, before the 000:001;01[' ]| time came for Mrs. Gorman to$9$ take her$2$ leave. Which, allowing one minute for the 000:001;01[' ]| interversion, gives a average session of fifteen seconds, and, on the moderate basis 000:001;01[' ]| of one kiss, lasting one minute, every minute and a half, a total for the day of one 000:001;01[' ]| kiss only, one double kiss, begun in the first session and consummated in the last, for 000:001;01[' ]| during the interversions they could not kiss, they were so busy interverting. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Further than this, it will be$1$ learnt with regret, they never went, though more than half 000:001;01[' ]| inclined to$9$ do$1$ so on more than one occasion. Why was this? Was it the echo 000:001;01[' ]| murmuring in their hearts, in Watt's heart, in Mrs. Gorman's, of past passion, ancient 000:001;01[' ]| error, warning them not to$9$ sully not to$9$ trail, in the cloaca of clonic gratification, a 000:001;01[' ]| flower so fair, so rare, so sweet, so frail? It is not necessary to$9$ suppose so. For Watt 000:001;01[' ]| had not the strength, and Mrs. Gorman had not the time, indispensable to$4$ even the 000:001;01[' ]| most perfunctory coalescence. The irony of life! Of life in love! That he who has the 000:001;01[' ]| time should lack the force, that she who has the force should lack the time! That a 000:001;01[' ]| trifling and in all probability tractable obstruction of some endocrinal Bandusia, that 000:001;01[' ]| a mere matter of forty-five or fifty minutes by the clock, should as effectively as 000:001;01[' ]| death itself, or as the Hellespont, separate lovers. For if Watt had had a little more 000:001;01[' ]| vigour Mrs. Gorman would have$1$ just had the time, and if Mrs. Gorman had had a 000:001;01[' ]| little more time Watt 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| could very likely have$1$ developed, with a careful nursing of his languid tides, a 000:001;01[' ]| breaker not unworthy of the occasion. Whereas as things stood, with Watt's strength, 000:001;01[' ]| and Mrs. Gorman's time, limited as they were, it is difficult to$9$ see what more they 000:001;01[' ]| could have$1$ done than what they did, than sit on each other, turn about, kissing, 000:001;01[' ]| resting, kissing again and resting again, until it was time for Mrs. Gorman to$9$ resume 000:001;01[' ]| her$2$ circuit. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| What was this in Mrs. Gorman, what this in Watt, that so appealed to$4$ Watt, so 000:001;01[' ]| melted Mrs. Gorman? Between what deeps the call, the counter-call? Between Watt 000:001;01[' ]| not a man's man and Mrs. Gorman not a woman's woman? Between Watt not a 000:001;01[' ]| woman's man and Mrs. Gorman not a man's woman? Between Watt not a man's man 000:001;01[' ]| and Mrs. Gorman not a man's woman? Between Watt not a woman's man and Mrs. 000:001;01[' ]| Gorman not a woman's woman? Between Watt neither a man's nor a woman's man 000:001;01[' ]| and Mrs. Gorman neither a man's nor a woman's woman? In his own vitals, nucleant, 000:001;01[' ]| he knew them clasped, the men that were not men's, that were not women's men. 000:001;01[' ]| And Mrs. Gorman was doubtless the theatre of a similar conglutination. But that 000:001;01[' ]| meant nothing. And were they not perhaps rather drawn, Mrs. Gorman to$4$ Watt, Watt 000:001;01[' ]| to$4$ Mrs. Gorman, she by the bottle of stout, he by the smell of fish? This was the view 000:001;01[' ]| towards which, in later years, when Mrs. Gorman was no more than a fading 000:001;01[' ]| memory, than a dying perfume, Watt inclined. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Graves came to$4$ the back door four times a day. In the morning, when he arrived, 000:001;01[' ]| to$9$ fetch the key of his shed, and at midday, to$9$ fetch his pot of tea, and in the 000:001;01[' ]| afternoon, to$9$ fetch his bottle of stout and return the teapot, and in the evening, to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| return the key and the bottle. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt conceived for Mr. Graves a feeling little short of liking. In particular Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Graves's way of speaking did not displease Watt. Mr. Graves pronounced his th 000:001;01[' ]| charmingly. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Turd and fart, he said, for third and fourth. Watt liked these venerable Saxon words. 000:001;01[' ]| And when Mr. Graves, drinking on the sunny step his afternoon stout, looked up with 000:001;01[' ]| a twinkle in his old blue eye, and said, in mock deprecation, Tis only me turd or fart, 000:001;01[' ]| then Watt felt he was perhaps prostituting himself to$4$ some purpose. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Graves had much to$9$ say$1$ on the subject of Mr. Knott, and of Erskine, Arsene, 000:001;01[' ]| Walter, Vincent and others, whose names he had forgotten, or never known. But 000:001;01[' ]| nothing of interest. He quoted as well from his ancestors' experience as from his 000:001;01[' ]| own. For his father had worked for Mr. Knott, and his father's father, and so on. Here 000:001;01[' ]| then was another series. His family, he said, had made the garden what it was. He 000:001;01[' ]| had nothing but good to$9$ say$1$ of Mr. Knott and of his young gentlemen. This was the 000:001;01[' ]| first time that Watt had been assimilated to$4$ the class of young gentlemen. But Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Graves might just as well have$1$ been speaking of tavern companions. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But Mr. Grave's chief subject of conversation was his domestic troubles. He did not, 000:001;01[' ]| it appeared, get on well with his wife, and had not, for some time past. Indeed he did 000:001;01[' ]| not get on with his wife at all. Mr. Graves seemed to$9$ have$1$ reached the age at which 000:001;01[' ]| the failure to$9$ get on with one's wife is more generally a cause of satisfaction than of 000:001;01[' ]| repining. But it greatly discouraged Mr. Graves. All his married life he had got on 000:001;01[' ]| with his wife, like a house on fire, but now for some time past he had been quite 000:001;01[' ]| unable to$9$ do$1$ so. This was very distressing also to$4$ Mrs. Graves, that her$2$ husband 000:001;01[' ]| could not get on with her$6$ any more, for there was nothing that Mrs. Graves loved 000:001;01[' ]| better than to$9$ be$1$ got on well with. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt was not the first to$4$ whom Mr. Graves had unbosomed himself, in this 000:001;01[' ]| connexion. For he had unbosomed himself to$4$ Arsene, many years before, when his 000:001;01[' ]| trouble was 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| green, and Arsene had given advice, which Mr. Graves had followed to$4$ the letter. But 000:001;01[' ]| nothing had ever come of it. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Erskine too had been admitted, by Mr. Graves, to$4$ his confidence, and Erskine had been 000:001;01[' ]| most generous with his advice. It was not the same advice as Arsene's, and Mr. Graves 000:001;01[' ]| had acted on it, to$4$ the best of his ability. But nothing had come of it. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Now to$4$ Watt Mr. Graves did not say$1$, in so many words, Tell me wat to$9$ do$1$, Mr. Watt, in 000:001;01[' ]| order tat I may get on wid me wife, as in former times. And it was perhaps as well that 000:001;01[' ]| he did not, for Watt would have$1$ been unable to$9$ reply, to$4$ such a question. And this 000:001;01[' ]| silence would perhaps have$1$ been misconstrued by Mr. Graves, and made to$9$ mean that it 000:001;01[' ]| was all the same to$4$ Watt whether Mr. Graves got on with his wife, or whether he did 000:001;01[' ]| not. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The question was nevertheless implied, and indeed blatantly. For the first time that Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Graves ended the relation of his trouble, he did not go away, but remained where he 000:001;01[' ]| was, silent and expectant, floccillating his hard hat (Mr. Graves always took off his hard 000:001;01[' ]| hat, even in the open air, when in speech with his betters), and looking up at Watt, who 000:001;01[' ]| was standing on the step. And as Watt's face wore its habitual expression, which was 000:001;01[' ]| that of judge Jeffreys presiding the Ecclesiastical Commission, Mr. Graves's hopes ran 000:001;01[' ]| high, of hearing something to$4$ his advantage. Unfortunately Watt was thinking of birds at 000:001;01[' ]| the time, their missile flights, their canorous reloadings. But soon tiring of this he turned 000:001;01[' ]| back into the house, closing the door behind him. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But it was not long before Watt began to$9$ put out the key, overnight, by the step, under a 000:001;01[' ]| stone, and to$9$ put out the pot of tea at midday, under a cosy, and to$9$ put out the bottle of 000:001;01[' ]| stout in the afternoon, with a corkscrew, in the shade. And in the evening, when Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Graves had gone home, then 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt would take in the teapot, and the bottle, and the key, which Mr. Graves had put 000:001;01[' ]| back, where he had found them. But a little later Watt ceased to$9$ take in the key. For 000:001;01[' ]| why take in the key, at six, when it must be$1$ put out, at ten? So the key's nail, in the 000:001;01[' ]| kitchen, knew the key no more, but only Mr. Graves's pocket, and the stone. But if 000:001;01[' ]| Watt did not take in the key, in the evening, when Mr. Graves was gone, but only the 000:001;01[' ]| teapot and the bottle, yet he never failed, when he took in the teapot and the bottle, to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| look under the stone, and make sure the key was there. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Then one bitter night Watt left his warm bed and went down, and took in the key, 000:001;01[' ]| and he wrapped it in a snippet of blanket, that he had snipped, from his own blanket. 000:001;01[' ]| And then he put it out again, under the stone. And when he looked the next evening 000:001;01[' ]| he found it, as he had left it, in its blanket, under the stone. For Mr. Graves was a 000:001;01[' ]| very understanding man. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt wondered if Mr. Graves had a son, as Mr. Gall had, to$9$ step into his shoes, when 000:001;01[' ]| he was dead. Watt thought it most probable. For does one get on with one's wife, all 000:001;01[' ]| one's married life, like a house on fire, without having at least one son, to$9$ step into 000:001;01[' ]| one's shoes, when one dies, or retires? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Sometimes in the vestibule Watt would catch a glimpse of Mr. Knott, or in the 000:001;01[' ]| garden, stock still, or moving slowly about. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| One day Watt, coming out from behind a bush, almost ran into Mr. Knott, which for 000:001;01[' ]| a instant troubled Watt greatly, for he had not quite finished adjusting his dress. But 000:001;01[' ]| he need not have$1$ been troubled. For Mr. Knott's hands were behind his back, and his 000:001;01[' ]| head bowed down, towards the ground. Then Watt in his turn looking down at first 000:001;01[' ]| saw nothing but the short green grass, but when he had looked a little longer he saw a 000:001;01[' ]| little blue flower and close by a fat worm burrowing into the earth. So this was what 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| had attracted Mr. Knott's attention, perhaps. So there for a short time they stood 000:001;01[' ]| together, the master and the servant, the bowed heads almost touching (which gives Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Knott's approximate height, does it not, assuming that the ground was level), until the 000:001;01[' ]| worm was gone and only the flower remained. One day the flower would be$1$ gone and 000:001;01[' ]| only the worm remain, but on this particular day it was the flower that remained, and the 000:001;01[' ]| worm that went. And then Watt, looking up, saw that Mr. Knott's eyes were closed, and 000:001;01[' ]| heard his breathing, soft and shallow, like the breathing of a child asleep. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt did not know whether he was glad or sorry that he did not see Mr. Knott more 000:001;01[' ]| often. In one sense he was sorry, and in another glad. And the sense in which he was 000:001;01[' ]| sorry was this, that he wished to$9$ see Mr. Knott face to$4$ face, and the sense in which he 000:001;01[' ]| was glad was this, that he feared to$9$ do$1$ so. Yes indeed, in so far as he wished, in so far as 000:001;01[' ]| he feared, to$9$ see Mr. Knott face to$4$ face, his wish made him sorry, his fear glad, that he 000:001;01[' ]| saw him so seldom, and at such a great distance as a rule, and so fugitively, and so often 000:001;01[' ]| sideways on, and even from behind. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt wondered if Erskine was better served, in this matter, than he. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But as time, as time will, drew on, and Watt's period of service on the ground floor 000:001;01[' ]| approached its term, then this wish and this fear, and so this sorrow and this gladness, 000:001;01[' ]| like so many other wishes and fears, so many other sorrows and gladnesses, grew duller 000:001;01[' ]| and duller and gradually ceased to$9$ be$1$ felt, at all. And the reason for that was perhaps 000:001;01[' ]| this, that little by little Watt abandoned all hope, all fear, of ever seeing Mr. Knott face 000:001;01[' ]| to$4$ face, or perhaps this, that Watt, while continuing to$9$ believe in the possibility of his 000:001;01[' ]| seeing one day Mr. Knott face to$4$ face, came to$9$ regard its realization as one to$4$ which no 000:001;01[' ]| importance could be$1$ attached, 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| attached, or perhaps this, that as Watt's interest in what has been called the spirit of Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Knott increased, his interest in what is commonly known as the body diminished (for it 000:001;01[' ]| is frequent, when one thing increases in one place, for another in another to$9$ diminish), 000:001;01[' ]| or perhaps some quite different reason, such as mere fatigue, having nothing to$9$ do$1$ with 000:001;01[' ]| any of these. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Add to$4$ this that the few glimpses caught of Mr. Knott, by Watt, were not clearly caught, 000:001;01[' ]| but as it were in a glass, not a looking-glass, a plain glass, a eastern window at 000:001;01[' ]| morning, a western window at evening. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Add to$4$ this that the figure of which Watt sometimes caught a glimpse, in the vestibule, 000:001;01[' ]| in the garden, was seldom the same figure, from one glance to$4$ the next, but so various, 000:001;01[' ]| as far as Watt could make out, in its corpulence, complexion, height and even hair, and 000:001;01[' ]| of course in its way of moving and of not moving, that Watt would never have$1$ supposed 000:001;01[' ]| it was the same, if he had not known that it was Mr. Knott. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt had never heard Mr. Knott either, heard him speak, that is to$9$ say$1$, or laugh, or cry. 000:001;01[' ]| But once he thought he heard him say$1$ Tweet! Tweet! to$4$ a little bird, and once he heard 000:001;01[' ]| him make a strange noise, PLOPF PLOPF Plopf Plopf plopf plopf plop plo pl. This was 000:001;01[' ]| in the flower garden. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt wondered if Erskine was any better off in this respect. Did he and his master 000:001;01[' ]| converse? Watt had never heard them do$1$ so, as he surely would have$1$ done, if they had 000:001;01[' ]| done so. In a undertone perhaps. Yes, perhaps they conversed in undertones, the master 000:001;01[' ]| and the servant, in two undertones, the master's undertone, the servant's undertone. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| One day towards the end of Watt's stay on the groundfloor, the telephone rang and a 000:001;01[' ]| voice asked how Mr. Knott was. Here was a teaser, to$9$ be$1$ sure. The voice said further, 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| A friend. It might have$1$ been a high male voice, or it might have$1$ been a deep female 000:001;01[' ]| voice. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt stated this incident as follows: 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| A friend, sex uncertain, of Mr. Knott telephoned to$9$ know how he was. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Cracks soon appeared in this formulation. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But Watt was too tired to$9$ repair it. Watt dared not tire himself further. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| How often he had pooh-poohed it, this danger of tiring himself further. Pooh-pooh, 000:001;01[' ]| he had said, pooh-pooh, and set to$5$, to$9$ repair the cracks. But not now. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt was now tired of the ground-floor, the ground-floor had tired Watt out. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| What had he learnt? Nothing. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| What did he know of Mr. Knott? Nothing. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Of his anxiety to$9$ improve, of his anxiety to$9$ understand, of his anxiety to$9$ get well, 000:001;01[' ]| what remained? Nothing. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But was not that something? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| He saw himself then, so little, so poor. And now, littler, poorer. Was not that 000:001;01[' ]| something? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| So sick, so alone. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| And now. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Sicker, aloner. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Was not that something? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| As the comparative is something. Whether more than its positive or less. Whether 000:001;01[' ]| less than its superlative or more. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Red, bluer, yellowist, that old dream was ended, half ended, ended. Again. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| A little before morning. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But at last he awoke to$9$ find, on arising, on descending, Erskine gone, and, on 000:001;01[' ]| descending a little further, a strange man in the kitchen. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| He did not know when this was. It was when the yew was dark green, almost black. 000:001;01[' ]| It was on a morning white 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| and soft, and the earth seemed dressed for the grave. It was to$4$ the sound of bells, of 000:001;01[' ]| chapel bells, of church bells. it was on a morning that the milkboy came singing to$4$ the 000:001;01[' ]| door, shrilly to$4$ the door his tuneless song, and went singing away, having measured out 000:001;01[' ]| the milk, from his can, to$4$ the jug, with all his usual liberality. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The strange man resembled Arsene and Erskine, in build. He gave his name as Arthur. 000:001;01[' ]| Arthur. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| It was about this time that Watt was transferred to$4$ another pavilion, leaving me 000:001;01[' ]| behind in the old pavilion. We consequently met, and conversed, less than formerly. 000:001;01[' ]| Not that at any time we had met, or conversed, very much, for we had not. For we 000:001;01[' ]| seldom left our mansions, Watt seldom left his mansion and I seldom left mine. And 000:001;01[' ]| when the kind of weather we liked did induce us to$9$ leave our mansions, and go out 000:001;01[' ]| into the garden, it did not always do$1$ so at the same time. For the kind of weather that 000:001;01[' ]| I liked, while resembling the kind of weather that Watt liked, had certain properties 000:001;01[' ]| that the kind of weather that Watt liked had not, and lacked certain properties that 000:001;01[' ]| the kind of weather that Watt liked had. So that when, together tempted from our 000:001;01[' ]| mansions by what each felt to$9$ be$1$ the kind of weather he liked, we met in the little 000:001;01[' ]| garden, and perhaps conversed (for though we could not converse without meeting, 000:001;01[' ]| we could, and often did, meet without conversing), the disappointment of one of us 000:001;01[' ]| at least was almost certain, and the regret, the bitter regret, at ever having left his 000:001;01[' ]| mansion at all, and the vow, the hollow vow, never to$9$ leave his mansion again, never 000:001;01[' ]| never to$9$ leave his mansion again, on any account. So we knew resistance too, 000:001;01[' ]| resistance to$4$ the call of the kind of weather we liked, but seldom simultaneously. Not 000:001;01[' ]| that our resisting simultaneously had any bearing on our meeting, our conversing, for 000:001;01[' ]| it had not. For when we both resisted we no more met, no more conversed, than 000:001;01[' ]| when the one resisted, the other yielded. But ah, when we yielded both, then we met, 000:001;01[' ]| and perhaps conversed, in the little garden. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| It is so easy to$9$ accept, so easy to$9$ refuse, when the call is heard, so easy, so easy. But 000:001;01[' ]| to$4$ us, in our windowlessness, in our bloodheat, in our hush, to$4$ us who could not hear 000:001;01[' ]| the wind, nor see the sun, what call could come, from the kind of weather we liked, 000:001;01[' ]| but a call so faint as to$9$ mock acceptance, mock refusal? And it was of course 000:001;01[' ]| impossible to$9$ have$1$ any confidence in the meteorological. information of our 000:001;01[' ]| attendants. So it is not to$9$ be$1$ wondered at if, through sheer ignorance of what was 000:001;01[' ]| going on without, we spent indoors, now Watt, now I, now Watt and I, many fleeting 000:001;01[' ]| hours that might have$1$ fled, just as well, if not better, certainly not worse, from us 000:001;01[' ]| with us as we walked, Watt, or I, or Watt and I, and perhaps even went through some 000:001;01[' ]| of the forms of conversation, in the little garden. No, but what is to$9$ be$1$ wondered at is 000:001;01[' ]| this, that to$4$ us both, disposed to$9$ yield, each in his separate soundless unlit warmth, 000:001;01[' ]| the call should come, and coax us out, as often as it did, as sometimes it did, into the 000:001;01[' ]| little garden. Yes, that we should have$1$ ever met, and spoken and listened together, 000:001;01[' ]| and that my arm should ever have$1$ rested on his arm, and his on mine, and our 000:001;01[' ]| shoulders ever touched, and our legs moved in and out, together over more or less 000:001;01[' ]| the same ground, parallelly the right legs forward, the left ones back, and then 000:001;01[' ]| without hesitation the reverse, and that, leaning forward, breast to$4$ breast, we should 000:001;01[' ]| ever have$1$ embraced (oh, exceptionally, and of course never on the mouth), that 000:001;01[' ]| seemed to$4$ me, the last time I remembered, strange, strange. For we never left our 000:001;01[' ]| mansions, never, unless at the call of the kind of weather we liked, Watt never left 000:001;01[' ]| his for me, I never left mine for him, but leaving them independently at the call of 000:001;01[' ]| the kind of weather we liked we met, and sometimes conversed, with the utmost 000:001;01[' ]| friendliness, and even tenderness, in the little garden. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| No truck with the other scum, cluttering up the passageways, the hallways, grossly 000:001;01[' ]| loud, blatantly morose, and 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| playing at ball, always playing at ball, but stiffly, delicately, out from our mansions, 000:001;01[' ]| and through this jocose this sniggering muck, to$4$ the kind of weather we liked, and 000:001;01[' ]| back as we went. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The kind of weather we liked was a high wind and a bright sun mixed.<1> But whereas 000:001;01[' ]| for Watt the important thing was the wind, the sun was the important thing for Sam. 000:001;01[' ]| With the result that though the sun though bright were not so bright as it might have$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| been, if the wind were high Watt did not audibly complain, and that I, when 000:001;01[' ]| illuminated by rays of appropriate splendour, could forgive a wind which, while 000:001;01[' ]| strong, might with advantage have$1$ been stronger. It is thus evident that the occasions 000:001;01[' ]| were few and far between on which, walking and perhaps talking in the little garden, 000:001;01[' ]| we walked there and perhaps talked with equal enjoyment. For when on Sam the sun 000:001;01[' ]| shone bright, then in a vacuum panted Watt, and when Watt like a leaf was tossed, 000:001;01[' ]| then stumbled Sam in deepest night. But ah, when exceptionally the desired degrees 000:001;01[' ]| of ventilation and radiance were united, in the little garden, then we were peers in 000:001;01[' ]| peace, each in his own way, until the wind fell, the sun declined. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Not that the garden was so little, for it was not, being of ten or fifteen acres in extent. 000:001;01[' ]| But it seemed little to$4$ us, after our mansions. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| In it great pale aspens grew, and yews ever dark, with tropical luxuriance, and other 000:001;01[' ]| trees, in lesser numbers. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| They rose from the wild pathless grass, so that we walked much in shade, heavy, 000:001;01[' ]| trembling, fierce, tempestuous. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| In winter there were the thin shadows writhing, under our feet, in the wild withered 000:001;01[' ]| grass. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Of flowers there was no trace, save of the flowers that 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| <1 Watt liked the sun at this time, or at least supported it. Nothing is known about this> 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| plant themselves, or never die, or die only after many seasons, strangled by the rank 000:001;01[' ]| grass. The chief of these was the pissabed. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Of vegetables there was no sign. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| There was a little stream, or brook, never dry, flowing now slow, now with torrential 000:001;01[' ]| rapidity, for ever in its narrow ditch. Unsteadily a rustic bridge bestrode its dark 000:001;01[' ]| waters, a rustic hump-backed bridge, in a-state of extreme dilapidation. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| It was through the crown of this construction that one day Watt, treading more 000:001;01[' ]| heavily than was his wont, or picking his steps with lets than his usual care, drove his 000:001;01[' ]| foot, and part of his leg. And he would certainly have$1$ fallen, and perhaps been 000:001;01[' ]| carried away by the subfluent flood, had I not been at hand to$9$ bear him up. For this 000:001;01[' ]| trifling service, I remember, I received no thanks. But we set to$4$ work at once, Watt 000:001;01[' ]| from the one bank, I from the other, with stout boughs and withes of willow, to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| repair the havoc. We lay at full length on our stomachs, I at my full length on my 000:001;01[' ]| stomach, and Watt at his on his, partly (for security) on our banks, partly on the up 000:001;01[' ]| slopes of the stages, and worked with diligence with arms outstretched until our task 000:001;01[' ]| was done, and the place mended, and as good as before, if not better. Then, our eyes 000:001;01[' ]| meeting, we smiled, a thing we did rarely, when together. And when we had lain a 000:001;01[' ]| little thus, with this exceptional smile, on our faces, then we began to$9$ draw ourselves 000:001;01[' ]| forward, and upward, and persisted in this course until our heads, our noble bulging 000:001;01[' ]| brows, met, and touched. Watt's noble brow, and my noble brow. And then we did a 000:001;01[' ]| thing we seldom did, we embraced. Watt laid his hands on my shoulders, and I laid 000:001;01[' ]| mine on his (I could hardly do$1$ otherwise), and then I touched Watt's left cheek with 000:001;01[' ]| my lips, and then Watt touched my left cheek with his (he could scarcely do$1$ less), the 000:001;01[' ]| whole coolly, and above us tossed the over-arching boughs 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| We were attached, you see, to$4$ the little bridge. For without it how should we have$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| passed from one part of the garden to$4$ the other, without wetting our feet, and 000:001;01[' ]| perhaps catching a chill, liable to$9$ develop into pneumonia, with very likely fatal 000:001;01[' ]| results. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Of seats, on which to$9$ sit down, and rest, there was not the slightest vestige. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Shrubs and bushes, properly so called, were absent from the scene. But thickets rose 000:001;01[' ]| at every turn, brakes of impenetrable density, and towering masses of brambles, of a 000:001;01[' ]| beehive form. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Birds of every kind abounded, and these it was our delight to$9$ pursue, with stones and 000:001;01[' ]| clods of earth. Robins, in particular, thanks to$4$ their confidingness, we destroyed in 000:001;01[' ]| great numbers. And larks' nests, laden with eggs still warm from the mother's breast, 000:001;01[' ]| we ground into fragments, under our feet, with peculiar satisfaction, at the 000:001;01[' ]| appropriate season, of the year. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But our particular friends were the rats, that dwelt by the stream. They were long and 000:001;01[' ]| black. We brought them such titbits from our ordinary as rinds of cheese, and 000:001;01[' ]| morsels of gristle, and we brought them also birds' eggs, and frogs, and fledgelings. 000:001;01[' ]| Sensible of these attentions, they would come flocking round us at our approach, 000:001;01[' ]| with every sign of confidence and affection, and glide up our trouserlegs, and hang 000:001;01[' ]| upon our breasts. And then we would sit down in the midst of them, and give them to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| eat, out of our hands, of a nice fat frog, or a baby thrush. Or seizing suddenly a 000:001;01[' ]| plump young rat, resting in our bosom after its repast, we would feed it to$4$ its mother, 000:001;01[' ]| or its father, or its brother, or its sister, or to$4$ some less fortunate relative. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| It was on these occasions, we agreed, after a exchange of views, that we came 000:001;01[' ]| nearest to$4$ God. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| When Watt spoke, he spoke in a low and rapid voice. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Lower voices, voices more rapid, have been heard, will be$1$ heard, than Watt's voice, 000:001;01[' ]| no doubt. But that there ever issued from the mouth of man, or ever shall again, 000:001;01[' ]| except in moments of delirium, or during the service of the mass, a voice at once so 000:001;01[' ]| rapid and so low, is hard to$9$ believe. Watt spoke also with scant regard for grammar, 000:001;01[' ]| for syntax, for pronunciation, for enunciation, and very likely, if the truth were 000:001;01[' ]| known, for spelling too, as these are generally received. Proper names, however, both 000:001;01[' ]| of places and of persons, such as Knott, Christ, Gomorrha, Cork, he articulated with 000:001;01[' ]| great deliberation, and from his discourse these emerged, palms, atolls, at long 000:001;01[' ]| intervals, for he seldom specified, in a most refreshing manner. The labour of 000:001;01[' ]| composition, the uncertainty as to$4$ how to$9$ proceed, or whether to$9$ proceed at all, 000:001;01[' ]| inseparable from even our most happy improvisations, and from which neither the 000:001;01[' ]| songs of birds, nor even the cries of quadrupeds, are exempt, had here no part, 000:001;01[' ]| apparently. But Watt spoke as one speaking to$4$ dictation, or reciting, parrot-like, a 000:001;01[' ]| text, by long repetition become familiar. Of this impetuous murmur much fell in vain 000:001;01[' ]| on my imperfect hearing and understanding, and much by the rushing wind was 000:001;01[' ]| carried away, and lost for ever. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| This garden was surrounded by a high barbed wire fence, greatly in need of repair, of 000:001;01[' ]| new wire, of fresh barbs. Through this fence, where it was not overgrown by briars 000:001;01[' ]| and giant nettles, similar gardens, similarly enclosed, each with its pavilion, were on 000:001;01[' ]| all sides distinctly to$9$ be$1$ seen. Now converging, now diverging, these fences 000:001;01[' ]| presented a striking irregularity of contour. No fence was party, nor any part of any 000:001;01[' ]| fence. But their adjacence was such, at certain places, that a broad-shouldered or 000:001;01[' ]| broad-basined man, threading these narrow straits, would have$1$ done so with greater 000:001;01[' ]| case, and with less jeopardy to$4$ his coat, and perhaps to$4$ his trousers, sideways than 000:001;01[' ]| frontways. For a big-bottomed man, 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| on the contrary, or a big-bellied man, frontal motion would be$1$ a absolute necessity, 000:001;01[' ]| if he did not wish his stomach to$9$ be$1$ perforated, or his arse, or perhaps both, by a 000:001;01[' ]| rusty barb, or by rusty barbs. A big-bottomed big-bosomed woman, a obese 000:001;01[' ]| wet-nurse, for example, would be$1$ under a similar necessity. While persons at once 000:001;01[' ]| broad-shouldered and bigbellied, or broad-basined and big-bottomed, or 000:001;01[' ]| broad-basined and big-bellied, or broad-shouldered and bigbottomed, or 000:001;01[' ]| big-bosomed and broad-shouldered, or bigbosomed and broad-basined, would on no 000:001;01[' ]| account, if they were in their right senses, commit themselves to$4$ this treacherous 000:001;01[' ]| channel, but turn about, and retrace their steps, unless they wished to$9$ be$1$ impaled, at 000:001;01[' ]| various points at once, and perhaps bleed to$4$ death, or be$1$ eaten alive by the rats, or 000:001;01[' ]| perish from exposure, long before their cries were heard, and still longer before the 000:001;01[' ]| rescuers appeared, running, with the scissors, the brandy and the iodine. For were 000:001;01[' ]| their cries not heard, then their chances of rescue were small, so vast were these 000:001;01[' ]| gardens, and so deserted, in the ordinary way. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Some time passed, after Watt's transfer, before we met again. I walked in my garden 000:001;01[' ]| as usual, that is to$9$ say$1$ when I yielded to$4$ the call of the kind of weather I liked, and 000:001;01[' ]| similarly Watt walked in his. But as it was no longer the same garden, we did not 000:001;01[' ]| meet. When finally we did meet, again, in the way described below, it was clear to$4$ us 000:001;01[' ]| both, to$4$ me, to$4$ Watt, that we might have$1$ met much sooner, if we had wished. But 000:001;01[' ]| there, the wish to$9$ meet was lacking. Watt did not wish to$9$ meet me, I did not wish to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| meet Watt. This is not to$9$ say$1$ that we were opposed to$4$ meeting, to$4$ resuming our 000:001;01[' ]| walks, our talks, as before, for we were not, but only that the wish to$9$ do$1$ so was not 000:001;01[' ]| felt, by Watt, by me. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Then one fine day, of unparalleled brightness and turbulence, I found my steps 000:001;01[' ]| impelled, as though by some external agency, towards the fence; and this impulsion 000:001;01[' ]| was maintained 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| until I could go no farther, in that direction, without doing myself a serious, if not 000:001;01[' ]| fatal, injury; then it left me and I looked about, a thing I never used to$9$ do$1$, on any 000:001;01[' ]| account, in the ordinary way. How hideous is the semi-colon. I say a external 000:001;01[' ]| agency; for of my own volition, which, if not robust, did nevertheless possess, at that 000:001;01[' ]| period, a kind of kittenish tenacity, I should never have$1$ gone near the fence, under 000:001;01[' ]| any circumstances; for I was very fond of fences, of wire fences, very fond indeed; 000:001;01[' ]| not of walls, nor palissades, nor opacious hedges, no; but to$4$ all that limited motion, 000:001;01[' ]| without limiting vision, to$4$ the ditch, the dyke, the barred window, the bog, the 000:001;01[' ]| quicksand, the paling, I was deeply attached, at that time, deeply deeply attached. 000:001;01[' ]| And (which renders, if possible, what follows even more singular that it would be$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| otherwise), so, I believe, was Watt. For when, before his transfer, we walked together 000:001;01[' ]| in our garden, on no single occasion did we go near the fence, as we surely must 000:001;01[' ]| have$1$ done, if chance had led us, at least once or twice. Watt did not guide me, nor I 000:001;01[' ]| him, but of our own accord, as though by mutual tacit consent, we never went nearer 000:001;01[' ]| to$4$ the fence than a hundred yards, or a quarter of a mile. Sometimes we saw it afar, 000:001;01[' ]| faintly the old sagging strands, the leaning posts, trembling in the wind, at the end of 000:001;01[' ]| a glade. Or we saw a big black bird perched in the void, perhaps croaking, or 000:001;01[' ]| preening its feathers. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Being now so near the fence, that I could have$1$ touched it with a stick, if I had 000:001;01[' ]| wished, and so looking about me, like a mad creature, I perceived, beyond all 000:001;01[' ]| possibility of error, that I was in the presence of one of those channels or straits 000:001;01[' ]| described above, where the limit of my garden and that of another, followed the 000:001;01[' ]| same course, at so short a remove, the one from the other, and for so considerable a 000:001;01[' ]| distance, that it was impossible for doubts not to$9$ arise, in a reasonable mind, 000:001;01[' ]| regarding the sanity of the person 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| responsible for the layout. Continuing my inspection, like one deprived of his sense, 000:001;01[' ]| I observed, with a distinctness that left no room for doubt, in the adjoining garden 000:001;01[' ]| whom do you think but Watt, advancing backwards towards me. His progress was 000:001;01[' ]| slow and devious, on account no doubt of his having no eyes in the back of his head, 000:001;01[' ]| and painful too, I fancy, for often he struck against the trunks of trees, or in the 000:001;01[' ]| tangles of underwood caught his foot, and fell to$4$ the ground, flat on his back, or into 000:001;01[' ]| a great clump of brambles, or of briars, or of nettles, or of thistles. But still without 000:001;01[' ]| murmur he came on, until he lay against the fence, with his hands at arm's length 000:001;01[' ]| grasping the wires. Then he turned, with the intention very likely of going back the 000:001;01[' ]| way he had come, and I saw his face, and the rest of his front. His face was bloody, 000:001;01[' ]| his hand also, and thorns were in his scalp. (His resemblance, at that moment, to$4$ the 000:001;01[' ]| Christ believed by Bosch, then hanging in Trafalgar Square, was so striking, that I 000:001;01[' ]| remarked it.) And at the same instant suddenly I felt as though I were standing before 000:001;01[' ]| a great mirror, in which my garden was reflected, and my fence, and I, and the very 000:001;01[' ]| birds tossing in the wind, so that I looked at my hands, and felt my face, and glossy 000:001;01[' ]| skull, with a anxiety as real as unfounded. (For if anyone, at that time, could be$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| truly said not to$9$ resemble the Christ supposed by Bosch, then hanging in Trafalgar 000:001;01[' ]| Square, I flatter myself it was I.) Why, Watt, I cried, that is a nice state you have got 000:001;01[' ]| yourself into, to$9$ be$1$ sure. Not it is, yes, replied Watt. This short phrase caused me, I 000:001;01[' ]| believe, more alarm, more pain, than if I had received, unexpectedly, at close 000:001;01[' ]| quarters, a charge of small shot in the ravine. This impression was reinforced by 000:001;01[' ]| what followed. Wonder I, said Watt, panky-hanky me lend you could, blood away 000:001;01[' ]| wipe. Wait, wait, I am coming, I cried. And I believe, that in my anxiety to$9$ come at 000:001;01[' ]| Watt then, I would have$1$ launched 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| myself against the barrier, bodily, if necessary. Indeed I went so far, with this 000:001;01[' ]| purpose in view, as hastily to$9$ withdraw to$4$ a distance of ten or fifteen paces, and to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| cast round for a sapling, or a bough, susceptible of conversion, rapidly, and without 000:001;01[' ]| the help of any cutting instrument, into a pole, or perch. While I was thus 000:001;01[' ]| half-heartedly employed, I thought I saw, in the fence, on my right, a hole, large and 000:001;01[' ]| irregular. Judge then of my astonishment when, upon approach, I found I was not 000:001;01[' ]| mistaken. It was a hole, in the fence, a large irregular hole, caused by numberless 000:001;01[' ]| winds, number less rains, or by a boar, or by a bull, flying, pursuing, a 000:001;01[' ]| wild boar, a wild bull, blind with fear, blind with rage, or who knows perhaps with 000:001;01[' ]| carnal desire, crashing at this point, through the fence, weakened by numberless 000:001;01[' ]| winds, numberless rains. Through this hole I passed, without hurt, or damage to$4$ my 000:001;01[' ]| pretty uniform, and found myself looking about me, for I had not yet recovered my 000:001;01[' ]| aplomb, in the couloir. My senses being now sharpened to$4$ ten or fifteen 000:001;01[' ]| times their normal acuity, it was not long before I saw, in the other fence, another 000:001;01[' ]| hole, in position opposite, and similar in shape, to$4$ that through which, some ten or 000:001;01[' ]| fifteen minutes before, I had made my way. So that I said that no boar had made 000:001;01[' ]| these holes, nor any bull, but the stress of weather, particularly violent just here. For 000:001;01[' ]| where was the boar, where the bull, capable, after bursting a hole in the first fence, 000:001;01[' ]| of bursting a second, exactly similar, in the second? But would not the bursting of 000:001;01[' ]| the first hole so reduce the infuriated mass as to$9$ render impossible, in the course of 000:001;01[' ]| the same charge, the bursting of the second? Add to$4$ this that a bare yard separated 000:001;01[' ]| the fences, at this point, so that the snout would be$1$, of necessity, in contact with the 000:001;01[' ]| second fence, before the hind-quarters were clear of the first, and consequently the 000:001;01[' ]| space be$1$ lacking in which, after the bursting of the first hole, the fresh impetus might 000:001;01[' ]| be$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| developed necessary to$4$ the bursting of the second. Nor was it likely that the bull, or 000:001;01[' ]| boar, after the bursting of the first hole, had withdrawn to$4$ a point from which, 000:001;01[' ]| proceeding as before, he might acquire the impetus necessary to$4$ the bursting of the 000:001;01[' ]| second hole, via the first hole. For either, after the bursting of the first hole, the 000:001;01[' ]| animal was still blind with passion, or he was so no longer. If he was so still, then the 000:001;01[' ]| chances were indeed small of his seeing the first hole with the distinctness necessary 000:001;01[' ]| to$4$ his passing through it with the velocity necessary to$4$ the bursting of the second 000:001;01[' ]| hole. And if he was so no longer, but by the bursting of the first hole calmed, and his 000:001;01[' ]| eyes opened, why then the probability was remote indeed of his desiring to$9$ burst 000:001;01[' ]| another. Nor was it likely that the second hole, or better still Watt's hole (for 000:001;01[' ]| there was nothing to$9$ show that the so-called second hole was not anterior to$4$ the 000:001;01[' ]| so-called first hole, and the so-called first hole not posterior to$4$ the so-called second 000:001;01[' ]| hole), had been burst, independently, at some quite different time, from Watt's side 000:001;01[' ]| of the fence. For if the two holes had been independently burst, the one from Watt's 000:001;01[' ]| side of Watt's fence, and the other from mine of mine, by two quite different 000:001;01[' ]| infuriated boars, or bulls (for that the one had been burst by a infuriated boar, and 000:001;01[' ]| the other by a infuriated bull, was unlikely), and at two quite different times, the 000:001;01[' ]| one from Watt's side of Watt's fence, and the other from mine of mine, then their 000:001;01[' ]| conjunction, at this point, was incomprehensible, to$9$ say$1$ the least. Nor was it likely 000:001;01[' ]| that the two holes, the hole in Watt's fence and the hole in mine, ad been burst, on 000:001;01[' ]| the same occasion, by two infuriated bulls, or by two infuriated boars, or by one 000:001;01[' ]| infuriated bull nd one infuriated cow, or by one infuriated boar and one infuriated 000:001;01[' ]| sow (for that they had been burst, simultaneously, the one by a infuriated bull and 000:001;01[' ]| the other by a infuriated sow, or the one by a infuriated boar and the other by an 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| infuriated cow, was hard to$9$ believe), charging with hostile or libidinous intent, the 000:001;01[' ]| one from Watt's side of Watt's fence, the other from mine of mine, and clashing, the 000:001;01[' ]| holes once burst, at the spot where now I stood, trying to$9$ understand. For this implied 000:001;01[' ]| the bursting of the holes, by the bulls, or by the boars, or by the bull and cow, or by 000:001;01[' ]| the boar and sow, at exactly the same moment, and not first one, and then a instant 000:001;01[' ]| later the other. For if first one, and then a instant later the other, then the bull, the 000:001;01[' ]| cow, the boar, the sow, first through its fence, and thrusting with its head against the 000:001;01[' ]| other, must have$1$ prevented, willy nilly, through this other, at this particular point, the 000:001;01[' ]| passage of the bull, the cow, the bull, the boar, the sow, the boar, hastening to$9$ meet 000:001;01[' ]| it, with all the fury of hate, the fury of love. Nor could I find, though I went down on 000:001;01[' ]| my knees, and parted the wild grasses, any trace, whether of combat or of copulation. 000:001;01[' ]| No bull then had burst these holes, nor any boar, nor any two bulls, nor any two 000:001;01[' ]| boars, nor any two cows, nor any two sows, nor any bull and cow, nor any boar and 000:001;01[' ]| sow, no, but the stress of weather, rains and winds without number, and suns, and 000:001;01[' ]| snows, and frosts, and thaws, particularly severe just here. Or was it not after all just 000:001;01[' ]| possible, through the two fences thus weakened by exposure, for a single 000:001;01[' ]| exceptionally powerful infuriated or terrified bull, or cow, or boar, or sow, or even 000:001;01[' ]| some other wild animal, to$9$ have$1$ passed, whether from Watt's side of Watt's fence, or 000:001;01[' ]| from mine of mine, as though the two fences were but one? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Turning now to$4$ where I had last had the pleasure of seeing Watt, I saw that he was 000:001;01[' ]| there no longer, nor indeed in any of the other places, and they were numerous, 000:001;01[' ]| visible to$4$ my eye. But when I called, Watt! Watt!, then he came, awkwardly 000:001;01[' ]| buttoning his trousers, which he was wearing back to$4$ front, out from behind a tree, 000:001;01[' ]| and then backwards, 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| guided by my cries, slowly, painfully, often falling, but as often picking himself up, 000:001;01[' ]| and without murmur, towards where I stood, until at last, after so long, I could touch 000:001;01[' ]| him again, with my hand. Then I reached out with my hand, through the hole, and 000:001;01[' ]| drew him, through the hole, to$4$ my side, and with a cloth that I had in my pocket 000:001;01[' ]| wiped his face, and his hands, and then taking a little box of ointment that I had in 000:001;01[' ]| my pocket from my pocket I anointed his face, and his hands, and then taking a little 000:001;01[' ]| hand comb from my pocket I straightened his tufts, and his whiskers, and then taking 000:001;01[' ]| a little clothes brush from my pocket I brushed his coat, and his trousers. Then I 000:001;01[' ]| turned him round, until he faced me. Then I placed his hands, on my shoulders, his 000:001;01[' ]| left hand on my right shoulder, and his right hand on my left shoulder. Then I placed 000:001;01[' ]| my hands, on his shoulders, on his left shoulder my right hand, and on his right 000:001;01[' ]| shoulder. my left hand. Then I took a single pace forward, with my left leg, and he a 000:001;01[' ]| single pace back, with his right leg (he could scarcely do$1$ otherwise). Then I took a 000:001;01[' ]| double pace forward with my right leg, and he of course with his left leg a double 000:001;01[' ]| pace back. And so we paced together between the fences, I forwards, he backwards, 000:001;01[' ]| until we came to$4$ where the fences diverged again. And then turning, I turning, and he 000:001;01[' ]| turning, we paced back the way we had come, I forwards, and he of course 000:001;01[' ]| backwards, with our hands on our shoulders, as before. And so pacing back the way 000:001;01[' ]| we had come, we passed the holes and paced on, until we came to$4$ where the fences 000:001;01[' ]| diverged again. And then turning, as one man, we paced back the way we had paced 000:001;01[' ]| back the way we had come, I looking whither we were going, and he looking whence 000:001;01[' ]| we were coming. And so, up and down, up and down, we paced between the fences, 000:001;01[' ]| together again after so long, and the sun shone bright upon us, and the wind blew 000:001;01[' ]| wild about us. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| To$9$ be$1$ together again, after so long, who love the sunny wind, the windy sun, in the 000:001;01[' ]| sun, in the wind, that is perhaps something, perhaps something. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| For us moving so between the fences, before they diverged, there was just room. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| In Watt's garden, in my garden, we should have$1$ been more at our case. But it never 000:001;01[' ]| occurred to$4$ me to$9$ go back into my garden with Watt, or with him to$9$ go forward into 000:001;01[' ]| his. But it never occurred to$4$ Watt to$9$ go back with me into his garden, or with me to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| go forward into mine. For my garden was my garden, and Watt's garden was Watt's 000:001;01[' ]| garden, we had no common garden any more. So we walked to$8$ and fro, neither in his 000:001;01[' ]| garden, in the way described, 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| So we began, after so long a time, to$9$ walk together again, and to$9$ talk, from time to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| time. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| As Watt walked, so now he talked, back to$4$ front. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The following is a example of Watt's manner, at this period: 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Day of most, night of part, Knott with now. Now till UP, little seen so oh, little 000:001;01[' ]| heard so oh. Night till morning from. Heard I this, saw I this then what. Thing 000:001;01[' ]| quiet, dim. Ears, eyes, failing now also. Hush in, mist in, moved I so. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| From this it will perhaps be$1$ suspected: 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| that the inversion affected, not the order of the sentences, but that of the words only; 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| that the inversion was imperfect; 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| that ellipse was frequent; 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| that euphony was a preoccupation; 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| that spontaneity was perhaps not absent; 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| that there was perhaps more than a reversal of discourse; that the thought was 000:001;01[' ]| perhaps inverted. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| So to$4$ every man, soon or late, comes envy of the fly, with all the long joys of 000:001;01[' ]| summer before it. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The utterance was as rapid, and as muffled, as before. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| These were sounds that at first, though we walked face to$4$ face, were devoid of 000:001;01[' ]| significance for me. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Nor did Watt follow me. Pardon beg, he said, pardon, pardon beg. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Thus I missed I suppose much I suspect of great interest touching I presume the first or 000:001;01[' ]| initial stage of the second or closing period of Watt's stay in Mr. Knott's house. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| For Watt's sense of chronology was strong, in a way, and his dislike of battology was 000:001;01[' ]| very strong. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Often my hands left his shoulders, to$9$ make a note in their little notebook. But his never 000:001;01[' ]| left mine, unless I detached them personally. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But soon I grew used to$4$ these sounds, and then I understood as well as before, that is to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| say$1$ a great part of what I heard. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| So all went well until Watt began to$9$ invert, no longer the order of the words in the 000:001;01[' ]| sentence, but that of the letters in the word. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| This further modification Watt carried through with all his usual discretion and sense of 000:001;01[' ]| what was acceptable to$4$ the ear, and aesthetic judgement. Nevertheless to$4$ one, such as 000:001;01[' ]| me, desirous above all of information, the change was not a little disconcerting. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The following is a example of Watt's manner, at this period: 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Ot bro, lap rulb, krad klub. Ot murd, wol fup, wol fup. Ot niks, sorg sam sorg sam. Ot 000:001;01[' ]| lems, lats lems, lats lems. Ot gnut, trat stews, trat stews. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| These were sounds that at first, though we walked breast to$4$ breast, made little or no 000:001;01[' ]| sense to$4$ me. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Nor did Watt follow me. Geb nodrap, he said, geb nodrap, nodrap. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Thus I missed I suppose much I presume of great interest touching I suspect the second 000:001;01[' ]| stage of the second or closing period of Watt's stay in Mr. Knott's house. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But soon I grew used to$4$ these sounds, and then I understood as well as before. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| So all went well until Watt began to$9$ invert, no longer the order of the letters in the 000:001;01[' ]| word, but that of the sentences in the period. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The following is a example of Watt's manner at this period: 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Of nought. To$4$ the source. To$4$ the teacher. To$4$ the temple. To$4$ him I brought. This 000:001;01[' ]| emptied heart. These emptied hands. This mind ignoring. This body homeless. To$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| love him my little reviled. My little rejected to$9$ have$1$ him. My little to$9$ learn him 000:001;01[' ]| forgot. Abandoned my little to$9$ find him. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| These were sounds that at first, notwithstanding our proximity, were not perfectly 000:001;01[' ]| clear to$4$ me. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Nor did Watt follow me. Beg pardon, pardon, he said, beg pardon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Thus I missed I presume much I suppose of great interest touching I presume the 000:001;01[' ]| third stage of the second or closing period of Watt's stay in Mr. Knott's house. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But soon I grew used to$4$ these sounds, and then I understood as well as before. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| So all went well until Watt began to$9$ invert, no longer the order of the sentences in 000:001;01[' ]| the period, but that of the words in the sentence together with that of the letters in the 000:001;01[' ]| word. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The following is a example of Watt's manner at this period: 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Deen did taw? Tonk. Tog da taw? Tonk. Luf puk saw? Hap! Deen did tub? Ton 000:001;01[' ]| sparp. Tog da tub? Ton wonk. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| These were sounds that at first, though we walked belly to$4$ belly, were so much wind 000:001;01[' ]| to$4$ me. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Nor did Watt follow me. Nodrap geb, he said, nodrap, nodrap geb. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Thus I missed I suspect much I presume of great interest 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| touching the fourth stage of the second or closing period of Watt's stay in Mr. Knott's 000:001;01[' ]| house. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But soon I grew used to$4$ these sounds. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Then all went well until Watt began to$9$ invert, no longer the order of the words in the 000:001;01[' ]| sentence together with that of the letters in the word, but that of the words in the 000:001;01[' ]| sentence together with that of the sentences in the period. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The following is a example of Watt's manner at this period: 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Say he would, No, waistcoat the, vest the, trousers the, socks the, shoes the, shirt the, 000:001;01[' ]| drawers the, coat the, dress to$9$ ready things got had when. Say he would, Dress. Say 000:001;01[' ]| he would, No, water the, towel the, sponge the, soap the, salts the, glove the, brush the, 000:001;01[' ]| basin the, wash to$9$ ready things got had when. Say he would, Wash. Say he would, No, water 000:001;01[' ]| the, towel the, sponge the, soap the, razor the, powder the, brush the, bowl the, 000:001;01[' ]| shave to$9$ ready things got had when. Say he would, Shave. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| These were sounds that at first, though we walked pubis to$4$ pubis, seemed so much 000:001;01[' ]| balls to$4$ me. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Nor did Watt follow me. Pardon, pardon beg, he said, pardon beg. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Thus I missed I presume much I suspect touching I suppose the fifth stage of the 000:001;01[' ]| second or closing period of Watt's stay in Mr. Knott's house. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But soon I grew used to$4$ these sounds. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Until Watt began to$9$ invert, no longer the order of the words in the sentence together 000:001;01[' ]| with that of the sentences in the period, but that of the letters in the word together 000:001;01[' ]| with that of the sentences in the period. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The following is a example of this manner: 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Lit yad mac, ot og. Ton taw, ton tonk. Ton dob, ton trips. Ton vila, ton deda. Ton 000:001;01[' ]| kawa, ton pelsa. Ton das, don yag. Os devil, rof mit. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| This meant nothing to$4$ me. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Geb nodrap, nodrap, said Watt, geb nodrap. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Thus I missed I presume much I suppose of great interest touching I suspect the fifth, 000:001;01[' ]| no, the sixth stage of the second or closing period of Watt's stay in Mr. Knott's house. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But in the end I understood. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Then Watt began to$9$ invert, no longer the order of the letters in the word together 000:001;01[' ]| with that of the sentences in the period, but that of the letters in the word together 000:001;01[' ]| with that of the words in the sentence together with that of the sentences in the 000:001;01[' ]| period. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| For example: 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Dis yd dis, nem owl. rad la, tin fo trap. Skin, skin, skin. Od su did ned law? On. 000:001;01[' ]| Taw ot klat tonk? On. Tonk ot klat taw? On. Tonk ta kool law? On. Taw ta kool 000:001;01[' ]| tonk? Nilb, mun, mud. Tin fo trap, yad la. Nem owl, dis yb dis. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| It took me some time to$9$ get used to$4$ this. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Nodrap, nodrap geb, said Watt, nodrap geb. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Thus I missed I suppose much I suspect of great interest touching I presume the 000:001;01[' ]| seventh stage of the second or closing period of Watt's stay in Mr. Knott's house. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Then he took it into his head to$9$ invert, no longer the order of the words in the 000:001;01[' ]| sentence, nor that of the letters in the word, nor that of the sentences in the period, 000:001;01[' ]| nor simultaneously that of the words in the sentence and that of the letters in the 000:001;01[' ]| word, nor simultaneously that of the words in the sentence and that of the sentences 000:001;01[' ]| in the period, nor simultaneously that of the letters in the word and that of the 000:001;01[' ]| sentences in the period, nor simultaneously that of the letters in the word and that of 000:001;01[' ]| the words in the sentence and that of the sentences in the period, ho no, but, in the 000:001;01[' ]| brief course of the same period, now that of the words in the sentence, now that of 000:001;01[' ]| the letters in the word, now that of the sentences in the period, now simultaneously 000:001;01[' ]| that of the words in the sentence and that of the letters in the ward, now 000:001;01[' ]| simultaneously that of the words in the sentence and 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| that of the sentences in the period, now simultaneously that of the letters in the word and 000:001;01[' ]| that of the sentences in the period, and now simultaneously that of the letters in the word 000:001;01[' ]| and that of the words in the sentence and that of the sentences in the period. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I recall no example of this manner. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| These were sounds that at first, though we walked glued together, were so much Irish to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| me. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Nor did Watt follow me. Beg nodrap, he said, nodrap, pardon geb. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Thus I missed I suppose much I presume of great interest touching I suspect the eighth 000:001;01[' ]| or final stage of the second or closing period of Watt's stay in Mr. Knott's house. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But soon I grew used to$4$ these sounds, and then I understood as well as ever, that is to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| say$1$ fully one half of what won its way past my tympan. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| For my own hearing now began to$9$ fail, though my myopia remained stationary. My 000:001;01[' ]| purely mental faculties on the other hand, the faculties properly so called of ? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| were if possible more vigorous than ever. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| To$4$ these conversations we are indebted for the following information. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| One day they were all four in the garden, Mr. Knott, Watt, Arthur and Mr. Graves. It was 000:001;01[' ]| a beautiful summer's day. Mr. Knott was moving slowly about, disappearing now behind 000:001;01[' ]| a bush, emerging now from behind another. Watt was sitting on a mound. Arthur was 000:001;01[' ]| standing on the lawn, talking to$4$ Mr. Graves. Mr. Graves was leaning on a fork. But the 000:001;01[' ]| great mass of the empty house was hard by. A bound, and they were all in safety. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Arthur said: 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Do not despair, Mr. Graves. Some day the clouds will 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| roll away, and the sun, so long obnubilated, burst forth, for you, Mr. Graves, at last. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Not a kick in me, Mr. Arter, said Mr. Graves. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Oh, Mr. Graves, said Arthur, do not say$1$ that. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| When I says a kick, said Mr. Graves, I means a ~~. He made a gesture with his fork. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Have you tried Bando, Mr. Graves, said Arthur. A capsule, before and after meals, in 000:001;01[' ]| a little warm milk, and again at night, before turning in. I had tried everything, and 000:001;01[' ]| was thoroughly disgusted, when a friend spoke to$4$ me of Bando. Her$2$ husband was 000:001;01[' ]| never without it, you understand. Try it, she said, and come back in five or six years. 000:001;01[' ]| I tried it, Mr. Graves, and it changed my whole outlook on life. From being a moody, 000:001;01[' ]| listless, constipated man, covered with squames, shunned by my fellows, my breath 000:001;01[' ]| fetid and my appetite depraved (for years I had eaten nothing but high fat rashers), I 000:001;01[' ]| became, after four years of Bando, vivacious, restless, a popular nudist, regular in my 000:001;01[' ]| daily health, almost a father and a lover of boiled potatoes. Bando. Spelt as 000:001;01[' ]| pronounced. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Graves said he would give it a trial. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The unfortunate thing about Bando, said Arthur, is that it is no longer to$9$ be$1$ obtained 000:001;01[' ]| in this unfortunate country. I understand that inferior products, such as Ostreine and 000:001;01[' ]| Spanish Flies, may still be$1$ wheedled out of some of the humaner chemists, up and 000:001;01[' ]| down the city, in the ten minutes or a quarter of a hour immediately following their 000:001;01[' ]| midday meal. But for Bando, even on a Saturday afternoon, you will grovel in vain. 000:001;01[' ]| For the State, taking as usual the law into its own hands, and duly indifferent to$4$ the 000:001;01[' ]| sufferings of thousands of men, and tens of thousands of women, all over the 000:001;01[' ]| country, has seen fit to$9$ place a embargo on this admirable article, from which joy 000:001;01[' ]| could stream, at a moderate cost, into homes, and other places of rendez-vous, 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| now desolate. It can not enter our ports, nor cross our northern frontier, if not in the 000:001;01[' ]| form of a casual, hazardous and surreptitious dribble, I mean piecemeal in ladies' 000:001;01[' ]| underclothing, for example, or gentlemen's golfbags, or the hollow missal of a 000:001;01[' ]| broad-minded priest, where on discovery it is immediately seized, and confiscated, 000:001;01[' ]| by some gross customs official half crazed with seminal intoxication and sold, at ten 000:001;01[' ]| and even fifteen times its advertised value, to$4$ exhausted commercial travellers on 000:001;01[' ]| their way home after a unprofitable circuit. But I shall better illustrate what I mean 000:001;01[' ]| if I tell you what happened to$4$ my old friend, Mr. Ernest Louit, who in the darkest 000:001;01[' ]| hours of school and university never abandoned me, though often urged to$9$ do$1$ so, by 000:001;01[' ]| his well-wishers and by mine. The title of his dissertation I well remember was The 000:001;01[' ]| Mathematical Intuitions of the Visicelts, a subject on which he professed the 000:001;01[' ]| strongest views, for he was a close companion of the College Bursar, their 000:001;01[' ]| association (for it was nothing less) being founded on a community of tastes, and 000:001;01[' ]| even I fear practices, all too common in academic circles, and of which perhaps the 000:001;01[' ]| most endearing was brandy on awakening, which they did habitually in each other's 000:001;01[' ]| society. Louit now solicited, through the College Bursar, and finally obtained, a 000:001;01[' ]| further sum of fifty pounds, fondly calculated to$9$ defray the expenses of a six months' 000:001;01[' ]| research expedition, in the County Clare. His analysis of this risible estimate was as 000:001;01[' ]| follows: 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| L. s. d. 000:001;01[' ]| Travelling 1 15 0 000:001;01[' ]| Boots 0 15 0 000:001;01[' ]| Coloured Beads 5 0 0 000:001;01[' ]| Gratifications0 10 0 000:001;01[' ]| Sustenance 42 0 0 000:001;01[' ]| Total 50 0 0 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The food necessary for the maintenance of his dog, a bull-terrier, in the condition of 000:001;01[' ]| ferocious plethora to$4$ which it was accustomed, he generously declared himself 000:001;01[' ]| willing to$9$ pay for out of his own pocket, and he added, with his usual candour, and to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| the great merriment of the Grants Committee, that he thought he could rely on 000:001;01[' ]| O'Connor to$9$ live on the country. To$4$ none of these items was any exception found, 000:001;01[' ]| though the absence of others, usual in such cases, as for example that corresponding 000:001;01[' ]| to$4$ accommodation for the night, caused no little surprise. Invited, through the 000:001;01[' ]| College Bursar, to$9$ account for this omission, Louit replied, through the College 000:001;01[' ]| Bursar, that being a person of great bodily fastidiousness it was his intention to$9$ pass 000:001;01[' ]| his nights, as long as he remained in that part of the country, in the sweet-smelling 000:001;01[' ]| hay, or the sweet-smelling straw, as the case might be$1$, of the local barns. This 000:001;01[' ]| explanation provoked further great hilarity among the members of the committee. 000:001;01[' ]| And the frankness was admired by many with which Louit, on his return, confessed 000:001;01[' ]| to$4$ having found, in the course of his excursion, three barns in all, of which two 000:001;01[' ]| contained empty bottles and the third the skeleton of a goat. But in other quarters this 000:001;01[' ]| and cognate statements were viewed in another and less friendly light. For Ernest, 000:001;01[' ]| looking very pale and ill, returned to$4$ his rooms three weeks before he was due. 000:001;01[' ]| Invited, through the College Bursar, to$9$ produce the boots for the purchase of which 000:001;01[' ]| fifteen shillings had been allotted to$4$ him from the slender College funds, Louit 000:001;01[' ]| replied, through the same channel, that in the late afternoon of November the 000:001;01[' ]| twenty-first, in the vicinity of Handcross, they had unfortunately been sucked off his 000:001;01[' ]| feet by a bog, which in the fading light, and the confusion of his senses consequent 000:001;01[' ]| on prolonged inanition, he had mistaken 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| for a field of late onions. To$4$ the hope then politely expressed that O'Connor had 000:001;01[' ]| enjoyed his brief outing, Louit with grateful acknowledgement replied that he had 000:001;01[' ]| been reluctantly obliged, on the same occasion, to$9$ hold O'Connor head downward in 000:001;01[' ]| the morass, until his faithful heart had ceased to$9$ beat, and then roast him, in his skin, 000:001;01[' ]| which he could not bring himself to$9$ remove, over a fire of flags and cotton-blossoms. 000:001;01[' ]| He took no credit for this, O'Connor in his place would have$1$ done the same for him. 000:001;01[' ]| The bones of his old pet, complete save for the medullas, were now in his rooms, in a 000:001;01[' ]| sack, and might be$1$ inspected any afternoon, Sundays excepted, between the hours of 000:001;01[' ]| two-forty-five and three-fifteen. The College Bursar now wondered, on behalf of the 000:001;01[' ]| committee, if it would be$1$ convenient to$4$ Mr. Louit to$9$ give some account of the 000:001;01[' ]| impetus imparted to$4$ his studies by his short stay in the country. Louit replied that he 000:001;01[' ]| would have$1$ done so with great pleasure if he had not had the misfortune to$9$ mislay, 000:001;01[' ]| on the very morning of his departure from the west, between the hours 000:001;01[' ]| of eleven and midday, in the gentlemen's cloakroom of Ennis railway-station, the one 000:001;01[' ]| hundred and five loose sheets closely covered on both sides with shorthand notes 000:001;01[' ]| embracing the entire period in question. This represented, he added, a average of no 000:001;01[' ]| less than five pages, or ten sides, per day. He was now exerting himself to$4$ the 000:001;01[' ]| utmost, and indeed he feared greatly beyond his strength, with a view 000:001;01[' ]| to$4$ recuperating his MS., which, qua MS., could not be$1$ of the smallest value to$4$ any 000:001;01[' ]| person other than himself and, eventually, humanity. But it was his experience of 000:001;01[' ]| railway station cloakrooms, and in particular those exploited by the western lines, 000:001;01[' ]| that anything left there at all resembling paper, with the exception perhaps of 000:001;01[' ]| visiting-cards, postage stamps, betting-slips and perforated railway-tickets, was 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| invariably swallowed up and lost, for ever. So in his efforts, greatly hampered by 000:001;01[' ]| lack of strength, and absence of funds, to$9$ recover his property, his anticipations were 000:001;01[' ]| of failure, rather than of success. And such a loss would be$1$ irreparable, for of the 000:001;01[' ]| countless observations made during his tour, and of the meditations arising thence, 000:001;01[' ]| hastily under the most adverse conditions committed to$4$ paper, he had to$4$ his great 000:001;01[' ]| regret little or no remembrance. To$4$ the relation of these painful events, that is to$9$ say$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| the loss of his boots, his dog, his labour, his money, his health and perhaps even the 000:001;01[' ]| esteem of his academical superiors, Louit had nothing to$9$ add, if not that he looked 000:001;01[' ]| forward to$4$ waiting on the committee, at their mutual convenience, with proof that his 000:001;01[' ]| mission had not been altogether in vain. The day and hour having been appointed, 000:001;01[' ]| Louit was seen advancing, leading by the hand a old man dressed in kilt, plaid, 000:001;01[' ]| brogues and, in spite of the cold, a pair of silk socks made fast to$4$ the purple calves 000:001;01[' ]| by a unpretentious pair of narrow mauve suspenders, and holding a large black felt 000:001;01[' ]| hat under his arm. Louit said, This, gentlemen, is Mr. Thomas Nackybal, native of 000:001;01[' ]| Burren. There he has spent all his life, thence he was loath to$9$ remove, thither he 000:001;01[' ]| longs to$9$ return, to$9$ kill his pig, his solitary perennial companion. Mr. Nackybal is now 000:001;01[' ]| in his seventy-sixth year, and has never, in all that time, received any instruction 000:001;01[' ]| other than that treating of such agricultural themes, indispensable to$4$ the exercise of 000:001;01[' ]| his profession, as the rock-potato, the clover-thatch, every man his own fertilizer, turf 000:001;01[' ]| versus combustion and the flycatching pig, with the result that he can not, nor ever 000:001;01[' ]| could, read or write, or, without the assistance of his fingers, and his toes, add, 000:001;01[' ]| subtract, multiply or divide the smallest whole number to$4$, from, by or into another. 000:001;01[' ]| So much for the mental Nackybal. The physical ~~ . Stay, Mr. Louit, said the President, 000:001;01[' ]| holding up his hand. One moment, Mr. Louit, 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| if you please. A thousand, sir, if you wish, said Louit. On the dais they were five, Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| O'Meldon, Mr. Magershon, Mr. Fitzwein, Mr. de Baker and Mr. MacStern, from left to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| right. They consulted together. Mr. Fitzwein said, Mr. Louit, you would not have$1$ us 000:001;01[' ]| believe that this man's mental existence is exhausted by the bare knowledge, emerging 000:001;01[' ]| from a complete innocence of the rudiments, of what is necessary for his survival. That, 000:001;01[' ]| replied Louit, is the bold claim I make for my friend, in whose mind, save for the 000:001;01[' ]| pale music of the innocence you mention, and, in some corner of the cerebellum, where 000:001;01[' ]| all agricultural ideation has its seat, dumbly flickering, the knowledge of how to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| extract, from the ancestral half-acre of moraine, the maximum of nourishment, for 000:001;01[' ]| himself and his pig, with the minimum of labour, all, I am convinced, is a ecstasy of 000:001;01[' ]| darkness, and of silence. The committee, whose eyes had not left Louit while he spoke 000:001;01[' ]| these words, transferred them now to$4$ Mr. Nackybal, as though the conversation were of 000:001;01[' ]| his complexion. They then began to$9$ look at one another, and much time passed, before 000:001;01[' ]| they succeeded in doing so. Not that they looked at one another long, no, they had 000:001;01[' ]| more sense than that. But when five men look at one another, though in theory only 000:001;01[' ]| twenty looks are necessary, every man looking four times, yet in practice this number is 000:001;01[' ]| seldom sufficient, on account of the multitude of looks that go astray. For example, Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Fitzwein looks at Mr. Magershon, on his right. But Mr. Magershon is not looking 000:001;01[' ]| at Mr. Fitzwein, on his left, but at Mr. O'Meldon, on his right. But Mr. O'Meldon is not 000:001;01[' ]| looking at Mr. Magershon, on his left, but, craning forward, at Mr. MacStern, on his 000:001;01[' ]| left but three at the far end of the table. But Mr. MacStern is not craning forward 000:001;01[' ]| looking at Mr. O'Meldon, on his right but three at the far end of the table, but is sitting 000:001;01[' ]| bolt upright looking at Mr. de Baker, on his right. But Mr. de Baker 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| is not looking at Mr. MacStern, on his left, but at Mr. Fitzwein, on his right. Then Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Fitzwein, tired of looking at the back of Mr. Magershon's head, cranes forward and looks 000:001;01[' ]| at Mr. O'Meldon, on his right but one at the end of the table. But Mr. O'Meldon, tired of 000:001;01[' ]| craning forward looking at Mr. MacStern, is now craning backward looking at Mr. de 000:001;01[' ]| Baker, on his left but two. But Mr. de Baker, tired of looking at the back of Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Fitzwein's head, is now craning forward looking at Mr. Magershon, on his right but one. 000:001;01[' ]| But Mr. Magershon, tired of the sight of Mr. O'Meldon's left ear, is now craning forward 000:001;01[' ]| looking at Mr. MacStern, on his left but two at the end of the table. But Mr. MacStern, 000:001;01[' ]| tired of looking at the back of Mr. de Baker's head, is now craning forward looking at 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Fitzwein, on his right but one. Then Mr. Fitzwein, tired of craning forward looking 000:001;01[' ]| at Mr. O'Meldon, cranes forward in the other direction and looks at Mr. MacStern, on 000:001;01[' ]| his left but one at the end of the table. But Mr. MacStern, tired of craning forward 000:001;01[' ]| looking at Mr. Fitzwein, is now craning backward looking at Mr. Magershon, on his 000:001;01[' ]| right but two. But Mr. Magershon, tired of craning backward looking at Mr. MacStern, 000:001;01[' ]| is now craning forward looking at Mr. de Baker, on his left but one. But Mr. de Baker, 000:001;01[' ]| tired of craning forward looking at Mr. Magershon, is now craning backward looking at 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. O'Meldon, on his right but two at the end of the table. But Mr. O'Meldon, tired of 000:001;01[' ]| craning backward looking at Mr. de Baker, is now craning forward looking at Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Fitzwein, on his left but one. Then Mr. Fitzwein, tired of craning forward looking at Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| MacStern's left ear, sits back and turning towards the only member of the committee 000:001;01[' ]| whose eye he has not yet tried to$9$ catch, that is to$9$ say$1$ Mr. de Baker, is rewarded by a 000:001;01[' ]| view of that gentleman's hairless sinciput, for Mr. de Baker, tired of craning backward 000:001;01[' ]| looking at Mr. Magershon's left ear, 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| and having turned in vain to$4$ all the members of the committee with the exception of his 000:001;01[' ]| left-hand neighbour, has sat forward and is now looking down the dingy corollae of 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. MacStern's right ear. For Mr. MacStern, sick and tired of Mr. Magershon's left ear, 000:001;01[' ]| and having no other alternative, is now craning forward contemplating the disgusted, 000:001;01[' ]| and indeed disgusting, right side of Mr. O'Meldon's face. For sure enough Mr. O'Meldon, 000:001;01[' ]| having eliminated all his colleagues with the exception of his immediate neighbour, 000:001;01[' ]| has sat back and is now considering the boils, the pimples and the blackheads of Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Magershon's nape. For Mr. Magershon, whom Mr. de Baker's left ear has ceased to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| interest, has sat back and is now benefiting, not indeed for the first time that afternoon, 000:001;01[' ]| but with a new distinctness, by Mr. Fitzwein's lunch of kidney-beans. Thus of the five 000:001;01[' ]| times four or twenty looks taken, no two have met, and all this craning forward and 000:001;01[' ]| backward and looking to$4$ the right and to$4$ the left has led to$4$ nothing, and for all the 000:001;01[' ]| progress made by the committee in this matter of looking at itself, its eyes might just as 000:001;01[' ]| well have been closed, or turned towards heaven. Nor is this all. For now Mr. Fitzwein 000:001;01[' ]| will very likely say$1$, It is is a long time since I looked at Mr. Magershon, let me look at 000:001;01[' ]| him again now, perhaps who knows he is looking at me. But Mr. Magershon, who it will 000:001;01[' ]| be$1$ remembered has just been looking at Mr. Fitzwein, will certainly have$1$ turned his 000:001;01[' ]| head round the other way, to$9$ look at Mr. O'Meldon, in the hope of finding Mr. O'Meldon 000:001;01[' ]| looking at him, for it is a long time since Mr. Magershon looked at Mr. O'Meldon. But if 000:001;01[' ]| it is a long time since Mr. Magershon looked at Mr. O'Meldon, it is not a long time 000:001;01[' ]| since Mr. O'Meldon looked at Mr. Magershon, for he has just been doing so, has he not. 000:001;01[' ]| And indeed he might be$1$ doing so still, for Treasurers' eyes do not readily fall, nor 000:001;01[' ]| turn aside, were it not for a strange-smelling, at first not 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| unpleasant, but with the passage of time frankly revolting vapour arising from among 000:001;01[' ]| the recesses of Mr. Magershon's body-linen and issuing, with great volatility, 000:001;01[' ]| between his nape and his collar-band, a bold and it must be$1$ allowed successful effort 000:001;01[' ]| on the part of that dignitary's pneumogastric to$9$ compensate the momentary confusion 000:001;01[' ]| of its superior connexions. So Mr. Magershon turns to$4$ Mr. O'Meldon, to$9$ find Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| 0'Meldon looking, not at him, as he had hoped (for if he had not hoped to$9$ find Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| O'Meldon looking at him when he turned to$9$ look at Mr. O'Meldon, then he would not 000:001;01[' ]| have$1$ turned to$9$ look at Mr. O'Meldon, but would have$1$ craned forward, or perhaps 000:001;01[' ]| backward, to$9$ look at Mr. MacStern, or perhaps at Mr. de Baker, but more 000:001;01[' ]| likely the former, as one less lately looked at than the latter), but at Mr. MacStern, in 000:001;01[' ]| the hope of finding Mr. MacStern looking at him. And this is very natural, for 000:001;01[' ]| more time has elapsed since Mr. O'Meldon's looking at Mr. MacStern than since Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| 0'Meldon's looking at any of the others, and Mr. O'Meldon can not be$1$ expected to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| know that since Mr. MacStern's looking at him less time has elapsed than since Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| MacStern's looking at any of the others, for Mr. MacStern has only just finished 000:001;01[' ]| looking at Mr. O'Meldon, has he not. So Mr. O'Meldon finds Mr. MacStem looking, 000:001;01[' ]| not at him, as he had hoped, but, in the hope of finding Mr. de Baker looking at him, 000:001;01[' ]| at Mr. de Baker. But Mr. de Baker, for the same reason that Mr. Magershon is 000:001;01[' ]| looking, not at Mr. Fitzwein, but at Mr. O'Meldon, and that Mr. O'Meldon is looking, 000:001;01[' ]| not at Mr. Magershon, but at Mr. MacStern, and that Mr. MacStem is looking, not at 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. O'Meldon, but at Mr. de Baker, is looking, not at Mr. MacStern, as Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| MacStern had hoped (for if Mr. MacStern had not hoped to$9$ find Mr. de Baker 000:001;01[' ]| looking at him, when he turned to$9$ look at Mr. de Baker, then he would not have$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| turned to$9$ look at Mr. de Baker, no, 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| but would have$1$ craned forward, or perhaps backward, to$9$ have$1$ a look at Mr. Fitzwein, 000:001;01[' ]| or perhaps at Mr. Magershon, but more probably the former, as one less lately looked 000:001;01[' ]| at than the latter), but at Mr. Fitzwein, who is now benefiting by the posterior aspect 000:001;01[' ]| of Mr. Magershon in very much the same way as but a moment before Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Magershon by his, and Mr. O'Meldon by Mr. Magershon's. And so on. Until of the 000:001;01[' ]| five times eight or forty looks taken, not one has been reciprocated, and the 000:001;01[' ]| committee, for all its twisting and turning, is no further advanced, in this matter of 000:001;01[' ]| looking at itself, than at the now irrevocable moment of its setting out to$9$ do$1$ so. And 000:001;01[' ]| this is not all. For many, many looks may still be$1$ taken, and much, much time still 000:001;01[' ]| lost, looks may still ere every eye find the eye it seeks, and into every mind the 000:001;01[' ]| energy flow, the comfort and the reassurance, necessary for a resumption of the 000:001;01[' ]| business in hand. And all this comes of lack of method, which is all the less 000:001;01[' ]| excusable in a committee as committees, whether large or small, are more often 000:001;01[' ]| under the necessity of looking at themselves than any other body of men, with the 000:001;01[' ]| possible exception of commissions. Now perhaps one of the best methods, whereby a 000:001;01[' ]| committee may rapidly look at itself, and all the fret and weariness, experienced by 000:001;01[' ]| committees looking at themselves without method, be$1$ averted, is perhaps this, that 000:001;01[' ]| numbers be given to$4$ the members of the committee, one, two, three, four, five, six, 000:001;01[' ]| seven, and so on, as many numbers as there are members of the committee, so that 000:001;01[' ]| every member of the committee has his number, and no member of the committee is 000:001;01[' ]| unnumbered, and that these numbers be carefully committed to$4$ memory by the 000:001;01[' ]| members of the committee, until every member of the committee knows, with 000:001;01[' ]| certain knowledge, not only his own number, but the numbers of all the other 000:001;01[' ]| members of the committee, and that these numbers be allotted to$4$ the members of the 000:001;01[' ]| committee at 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| the moment of its formation, and maintained unchanged until the hour of its 000:001;01[' ]| dissolution, for if at every successive meeting of the committee a new numeration 000:001;01[' ]| were to$9$ be$1$ adopted, untold confusion would ensue (from the changed 000:001;01[' ]| numeration) and unspeakable disorder. Then it will be$1$ found that every single 000:001;01[' ]| member of the committee not only has his number, but is content with the number 000:001;01[' ]| that he has, and willing to$9$ learn it off by heart, and not only it, but all 000:001;01[' ]| the other numbers too, until every number calls at once into his mind a name, a face, 000:001;01[' ]| a temperament, a function, and every face a number. Then, when the time comes for 000:001;01[' ]| the committee to$9$ look at itself, let all the members but number one look together at 000:001;01[' ]| number one, and let number one look at them all in turn, and then close, if he cares 000:001;01[' ]| to$9$, his eyes, for he has done his duty. Then of all those members but number one who 000:001;01[' ]| have looked together at number one, and by number one been looked at one by one, 000:001;01[' ]| let all but number two look at number two, and let number two in his 000:001;01[' ]| turn look at them all in turn, and then remove, if his eyes are sore, his glasses, if he is 000:001;01[' ]| in the habit of wearing glasses, and rest his eyes, for they are no longer required, for 000:001;01[' ]| the moment. Then of all those members but number two, and of course number one, 000:001;01[' ]| who have looked together at number two, and by number two been looked at one by 000:001;01[' ]| one, let all with the exception of number three look together at number 000:001;01[' ]| three, and let number three in his turn look at them all in turn, and then get up and go 000:001;01[' ]| to$4$ the window and look out, if he feels like a little exercise and change of scene, for 000:001;01[' ]| he is no longer needed, for the time being. Then of all those members of the 000:001;01[' ]| committee with the exception of number three, and of course of numbers two and 000:001;01[' ]| one, who have looked together at number three and by number three been looked at 000:001;01[' ]| one by one, let all save number four look at number four, and let number four in his 000:001;01[' ]| turn look at them one 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| after another, and then gently massage his eyeballs, if he feels the need to$9$ do$1$ so, for 000:001;01[' ]| their immediate role is terminated. And so on, until only two members of the 000:001;01[' ]| committee remain, whom then let at each other look, and then bathe their 000:001;01[' ]| eyes, if they have their eyebaths with them, with a little laudanum, or weak boracic 000:001;01[' ]| solution, or warm weak tea, for they have well deserved it. Then it will be$1$ found that 000:001;01[' ]| the committee has looked at itself in the shortest possible time, and with the 000:001;01[' ]| minimum number of looks, that is to$9$ say$1$ x squared minus x looks if there are x 000:001;01[' ]| members of the committee, and y squared minus y if there are y. But slowly two by 000:001;01[' ]| two the eyes put forth their curious beams again, first in the direction of Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Nackybal, and then in that of Louit, who thus emboldened continued, The physical 000:001;01[' ]| you have before you, the feet are large and flat, and so continued, working slowly up, 000:001;01[' ]| until he came to$4$ the head, of which, as of the rest, he said many things, some good, 000:001;01[' ]| some fair, some very good, some poor and some excellent. Then Mr. Fitzwein said, 000:001;01[' ]| But the man is in t-t-tolerable health? Can direct his steps unaided? Can sit down, sit, 000:001;01[' ]| stand up, stand, eat, drink, go to$4$ bed, sleep, rise and attend to$4$ his duties, without 000:001;01[' ]| assistance? Oh yes, sir, said Louit, and he can deject single-handed too. Well, well, 000:001;01[' ]| said Mr. Fitzwein. He added, And his sexual life, talking of dejection? That of a 000:001;01[' ]| impoverished bachelor of repulsive appearance, said Louit, no offence meant. I beg 000:001;01[' ]| your pardon, said Mr. MacStern. Hence the squint, said Louit. Well, said Mr. Fitzwein, 000:001;01[' ]| it is always a pleasure for us, for me for one for my part, and for my colleagues 000:001;01[' ]| for two for theirs, to$9$ meet a moron from a different crawl of life from our crawl, 000:001;01[' ]| from my crawl and from their crawl. And to$4$ that extent I suppose we are obliged to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| you, Mr. Louit. But I do not think we grasp, I do not think that I grasp and I should be$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| greatly surprised to$9$ learn that my collaborators grasp, what this 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| gentleman has to$9$ do$1$ with the object of your recent visit, Mr. Louit, your recent brief 000:001;01[' ]| and, if you will allow me to$9$ say$1$ so, prodigal visit to$4$ the western seaboard. To$4$ this for 000:001;01[' ]| all reply Louit reached with his right hand out and back for the left hand of Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Nackybal, whom he remembered having last seen seated, docilely and decently 000:001;01[' ]| seated, a little to$4$ his right, and to$4$ his rear. If I tell you all this in such detail, Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Graves, the reason is, believe me, that I can not, much as I should like, and for 000:001;01[' ]| reasons that I shall not go into, for they are unknown to$4$ me, do otherwise. Details, 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Graves, details I detest, details I despise, as much as you, a gardener, do. When 000:001;01[' ]| you sow your peas, when you sow your beans, when you sow your potatoes, when 000:001;01[' ]| you sow your carrots, your turnips, your parsnips and other root vegetables, do you 000:001;01[' ]| do$1$ so with punctilio? No, but rapidly you open a trench, a rough and ready line, not 000:001;01[' ]| quite straight, nor yet quite crooked, or a series of holes, at intervals that do not 000:001;01[' ]| offend, or offend only for a moment, while the holes are still open, your tired old 000:001;01[' ]| eye, and let fall the seed, absent in mind, as the priest dust, or ashes, into the grave, 000:001;01[' ]| and cover it with earth, with the edge of your boot in all proability, knowing that if 000:001;01[' ]| the seed is to$9$ prosper and multiply, ten-fold, fifteen-fold, twenty-fold, 000:001;01[' ]| twenty-five-fold, thirty-fold, thirty-five-fold, forty-fold, forty five-fold, and even 000:001;01[' ]| fifty-fold, it will do$1$ so, and that if it is not, it will not. As a younger man, Mr. Graves, 000:001;01[' ]| I have no doubt, you used a line, a measure, a plumb, a level, and placed your peas, 000:001;01[' ]| your beans, your maize, your lentils, in groups of four, or five, or six, or seven, not 000:001;01[' ]| four in one hole, and five in another, and six in a third, and seven in a fourth, no, but 000:001;01[' ]| in every hole four, or five, or six, or seven, and your potatoes with the germs 000:001;01[' ]| uppermost, and mixed your carrot and your turnip seed, your radish and your parsnip 000:001;01[' ]| seed, with sand, or dust, or ashes, before committing 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| it to$4$ the seedplot. Whereas now! And when did you cease, Mr. Graves, to$9$ use a line, 000:001;01[' ]| a measure, a plumb, a level, and so to$9$ place and so to$9$ thin your seed, before sowing 000:001;01[' ]| it? At what age, Mr. Graves, and under what circumstances? And did all go at once, 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Graves, by the board, the line, the measure, the plumb, the level, and who knows 000:001;01[' ]| what other mechanical aids, and the way of placing, and the manner of mixing, or 000:001;01[' ]| did the line go first, and then some time later the measure, and then some time later 000:001;01[' ]| the plumb (though I confess I do not see the use of the plumb), and then some time 000:001;01[' ]| later the level, and then some time later the punctilious placing, and then some time 000:001;01[' ]| later the meticulous mixing?. Or was it by twos and threes at a time, Mr. Graves, 000:001;01[' ]| until you arrived, little by little, at your present freedom, when all you need is seed, 000:001;01[' ]| earth, excrement, water and a stick? But neither Mr. Nackybal's left hand, nor his 000:001;01[' ]| right, was free, for with the former he was supporting the weight of his bulk now 000:001;01[' ]| acutely inclined, whilst with the latter, invisible beneath the kilt, he was scratching, 000:001;01[' ]| gently but firmly, learnedly, through the worn but still heating material of his winter 000:001;01[' ]| drawers, a diffuse ano-scrotal prurit (worms? nerves? piles? or worse?) of sixty-four 000:001;01[' ]| years standing. The faint rasp could be$1$ heard of the heel of the hand coming and 000:001;01[' ]| going, coming and going, and this, joined to$4$ the attitude of the rapt the suffering 000:001;01[' ]| body, and to$4$ the expression, attentive, gloating, shocked, expectant, of the face, 000:001;01[' ]| entirely misled the committee, so that it exclaimed, What vitality! At his age! The 000:001;01[' ]| open-air life! The single life! 7Ego 7autem! (Mr. MacStern). But now Mr. Nackybal, 000:001;01[' ]| having obtained a temporary relief, brought out, as he raised himself up, his right 000:001;01[' ]| hand from under his skirt, and drew it, palm outwards, several times back and forth 000:001;01[' ]| beneath his nose, a characteristic gesture. Then he 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I A Latin expression meaning: I (7Ego) also (7autem). 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| resumed the pose, the decent pose, from which the sudden access of his old trouble 000:001;01[' ]| had startled him, his hands on his knees, his old hairy mottled knotted hands on his 000:001;01[' ]| bare old bony blue knees, the right old hairy mottled hand on the bony right bare old 000:001;01[' ]| knee, and the left old knotted mottled hand on the left old blue old bony knee, and 000:001;01[' ]| looking, as at some scene long familiar, or for some other reason devoid of interest, 000:001;01[' ]| with listening lack-lustre eyes out of the window, at the sky supported here and there 000:001;01[' ]| by a cupola, a dome, a roof, a spire, a tower, a tree-top. But now, the moment being 000:001;01[' ]| come, Louit led Mr. Nackybal to$4$ the foot of the dais, and there, looking him 000:001;01[' ]| affectionately full in the face, or more exactly full in the quarter-face, that is to$9$ say$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| roughly affectionately full in the ear, for the more Louit turned his face, his full 000:001;01[' ]| affectionate face, towards Mr. Nackybal, the more Mr. Nackybal turned his, his tired 000:001;01[' ]| red old hairy face away, said, in slow loud solemn tones, Four hundred and eight 000:001;01[' ]| thousand one hundred and eighty-four. Mr. Nackybal now, to$4$ the general surprise, 000:001;01[' ]| transferred, from the sky, his eyes, docile, stupid, liquid, staring eyes, towards Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Fitzwein, who after a moment exclaimed, to$4$ the further general surprise, A gazelle! 000:001;01[' ]| A sheep! a old sheep! Mr. de Baker, sir, said Louit, will you be$1$ so friendly now as 000:001;01[' ]| to$9$ make a faithful note of what I say, and of what my friend here says, from now on? 000:001;01[' ]| Why of course to$9$ be$1$ sure, Mr. Louit, said Mr. de Baker. I am greatly obliged to$4$ you, 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. de Baker, said Louit. Tut tut, do not mention it, Mr. Louit, said Mr. de Baker. I 000:001;01[' ]| may count on you then, Mr. de Baker, said Louit. To$9$ be$1$ sure you may, Mr. Louit, 000:001;01[' ]| said Mr. de Baker. You are too kind, Mr. de Baker, said Louit. Foh, not at all, not at 000:001;01[' ]| all, Mr. Louit, said Mr. de Baker. A goat! a old quinch! cried Mr. Fitzwein. You set 000:001;01[' ]| my mind at rest, Mr. de Baker, said Louit. Not another word, Mr. Louit, said Mr. de 000:001;01[' ]| Baker, not a word more. And relieve it at the same time 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| of a great load of anxiety, Mr. de Baker, said Louit. His eyes coil into my very soul, 000:001;01[' ]| said Mr. Fitzwein. His very what?, said Mr. O'Meldon. His very soul, said Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Magershon. Bless me, what was that! exclaimed Mr. MacStern. What do you think it 000:001;01[' ]| was? The angelus? said Mr. de Baker. Does one remark such things, among men of 000:001;01[' ]| the world? said Mr. Magershon. At least it was frank, said Mr. O'Meldon. Then I 000:001;01[' ]| may proceed without misgiving, Mr. de Baker, said Louit. You certainly may indeed 000:001;01[' ]| as far as I personally am concerned, Mr. Louit, said Mr. de Baker. And wrap it round, 000:001;01[' ]| as with wet bands, said Mr. Fitzwein. God bless you, Mr. de Baker, said Louit. And 000:001;01[' ]| you, Mr. Louit, said Mr. de Baker. No no, you, Mr. de Baker, you, said Louit. Why 000:001;01[' ]| by all means, Mr. Louit, me, if you insist, but you too, said Mr. de Baker. You mean 000:001;01[' ]| God bless us both, Mr. de Baker? said Louit. Diable, said Mr. de Baker (the French 000:001;01[' ]| extraction). His face is familiar, said Mr. Fitzwein. Tom! cried Louit. Mr. Nackybal 000:001;01[' ]| turned his face towards the call, and Louit saw that it was stamped with anxiety. 000:001;01[' ]| Bah! said Louit, the decisive moment is at hand. Then, in a loud voice, he said, Three 000:001;01[' ]| hundred and eighty-nine th-. To$4$ me, at all events, said Mr. Fitzwein. Three hundred 000:001;01[' ]| and eighty-nine thousand, vociferated Louit, and seventeen. Eh? said Mr. Nackybal. 000:001;01[' ]| Have you got that down, Mr. de Baker, said Louit. I have, Mr. Louit, said Mr. de 000:001;01[' ]| Baker. Would you be$1$ good enough to$9$ repeat, Mr. de Baker, said Louit. Certainly, Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Louit. I repeat: Mr. Louit.. Three hundred and eighty-nine thousand and seventy. Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Nack ~~ . Three hundred and eighty-nine thousand and seventeen, said Louit, not and 000:001;01[' ]| seventy, and seventeen. Oh, I beg your pardon, Mr. Louit, I heard and seventy, said 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. de Baker. I said and seventeen, Mr. de Baker, said Louit, as I thought distinctly. 000:001;01[' ]| How extraordinary, I distinctly heard and seventy, said Mr. de Baker. What did you 000:001;01[' ]| hear, Mr. MacStern? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I heard and seventeen, with great distinctness, said Mr. MacStern. Oh you did, did you, 000:001;01[' ]| said Mr. de Baker. The n is still ringing in my ears, said Mr. MacStern. 000:001;01[' ]| And you, Mr. O'Meldon, said Mr. de Baker. And I what? said Mr. O'Meldon. Heard 000:001;01[' ]| what, seventeen or seventy said Mr. de Baker. What did you hear, Mr. de Baker? said 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. O'Meldon. And seventy, said Mr. de Baker. And seven what? said Mr. O'Meldon. 000:001;01[' ]| And seventeeeee, said Mr. de Baker. Naturally, said Mr. O'Meldon. Ha, said Mr. de 000:001;01[' ]| Baker. I said and seventeen, said Louit. And seven what? said Mr. Magershon. And 000:001;01[' ]| seventeen, said Louit. I thought so, said Mr. Magershon. But were not sure, said Mr. de 000:001;01[' ]| Baker. Obviously, said Mr. Magershon. And you, Mr. President, said Mr. de Baker. Eh? 000:001;01[' ]| said Mr. Fitzwein. I say, And you, Mr. President, said Mr. de Baker. I do not follow 000:001;01[' ]| you, Mr. de Baker, said Mr. Fitzwein. Was it seventeen you heard, or seventy said Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| de Baker. I heard forty-six, said Mr. Fitzwein. I said and seventeen, said Louit. We 000:001;01[' ]| believe you, Mr. Louit, we believe you, said Mr. Magershon. Will you emend, Mr. de 000:001;01[' ]| Baker, said Louit. Why of course with pleasure, Mr. Louit, said Mr. de Baker. Thank 000:001;01[' ]| you very much, Mr. de Baker, said Louit. Not at all, not at all, Mr. Louit, said Mr. de 000:001;01[' ]| Baker. How does it read now? said Louit. It reads now, said Mr. de Baker: Mr. Louit: 000:001;01[' ]| Three hundred and eighty-nine thousand and seventeen. Mr. Nackybal: 000:001;01[' ]| Eh? Has he your leave to$9$ sit down? said Louit. Has who our leave to$9$ sit down? said Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Magershon. He is tired standing, said Louit. Where have I seen that face before, 000:001;01[' ]| said Mr. Fitzwein. How long will this go on? said Mr. MacStern. Is that all? said Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Magershon. He hears better seated, said Louit. Let him lie down, if he wishes, 000:001;01[' ]| said Mr. Fitzwein. Louit helped Mr. Nackybal to$9$ lie down and knelt down beside him. 000:001;01[' ]| Tom, can you hear me? he cried. Yes, sir, said Mr. Nackybal. Three hundred and 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| eighty-nine thousand and seventeen, cried Louit. One moment while I get that down, 000:001;01[' ]| said Mr. de Baker. A moment passed. Proceed, said Mr. de Baker. Reply, cried Louit. 000:001;01[' ]| Sivinty-thray, said Mr. Nackybal. Sivinty-thray? said Mr. de Baker. Perhaps he 000:001;01[' ]| means seventy-three, said Mr. O'Meldon. Does he mean seventy-three? said Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Fitzwein. He said seventy-three, said Louit. Did he indeed, said Mr. de Baker. My 000:001;01[' ]| God, said Mr. MacStern. His what? said Mr. O'Meldon. His God, said Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Magershon. Would you be$1$ good enough to$9$ read out what you have got, Mr. de Baker, 000:001;01[' ]| said Louit. What I have got? said Mr. de Baker. What you have got down in your 000:001;01[' ]| book, to$9$ make sure it is correct, said Louit. Yours is not a trusting nature, Mr. Louit, 000:001;01[' ]| said Mr. de Baker. So much depends on the accuracy of the record, said Louit. He is 000:001;01[' ]| right, said Mr. MacStern. Where shall I begin? said Mr. de Baker. just my words and 000:001;01[' ]| my friend's, said Louit. The rest does not interest you, said Mr. de Baker. No, said 000:001;01[' ]| Louit. Mr. de Baker said, Looking back over my notes, I find what follows: Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Louit: Tom, can you hear me? Mr. Nackybal: Yes, sir. Mr. Louit: Three hundred and 000:001;01[' ]| eighty-nine thousand and seventy. Mr. Nack-. And seventeen, said Louit. Really, Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| de Baker, said Mr. Fitzwein. How often have you to$9$ be$1$ told? said Mr. O'Meldon. 000:001;01[' ]| Think of sweet seventeen, said Mr. Magershon. Ha ha, very good, said Mr. de Baker. 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Magershon said, Would it not perhaps be$1$ preferable, with such exceptionally 000:001;01[' ]| large and involved figures-er-at stake, if our Treasurer would consent to$9$ take over the 000:001;01[' ]| record, just for today? I do not intend any disparagement of our Record Secretary, 000:001;01[' ]| who as we all know is a superb Record Secretary, but perhaps with such 000:001;01[' ]| unprecedentedly high and complicated figures involved, just for one afternoon ~~. No 000:001;01[' ]| no, that would never do$1$, said Mr. Fitzwein. Mr. MacStern raid, Perhaps if our Record 000:001;01[' ]| Secretary would be$1$ so good as 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| to$9$ transcribe the figures, not in figures, but in words ~~. Yes yes, how would that be$1$? 000:001;01[' ]| said Mr. Fitzwein. What difference would that make? said Mr. O'Meldon. Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| MacStern replied, Why then he would simply write down the words that he hears, 000:001;01[' ]| instead of their ciphered equivalents, which requires long practice, especially in the 000:001;01[' ]| case of numbers of five and six letters, I beg your pardon, I mean figures. 000:001;01[' ]| Perhaps after all that is a excellent idea, said Mr. Magershon. Would you be$1$ good 000:001;01[' ]| enough to$9$ do$1$ that, Mr. de Baker, do you think? said Mr. Fitzwein. But it is my 000:001;01[' ]| invariable habit, said Mr. de Baker. No no, I believe you, said Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Fitzwein. Then one does not see what is to$9$ be$1$ done, said Mr. Magershon. The best of 000:001;01[' ]| us may make a slip, said Louit. Thank you, Mr. Louit, said Mr. de Baker. Pray do not 000:001;01[' ]| mention it, Mr. de Baker, said Louit. Wonderful most wonderful, exclaimed Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| O'Meldon. What is wonderful most wonderful? said Mr. MacStern. The two figures 000:001;01[' ]| are related, said Mr. O'Meldon, as the cute to$4$ its roob. The cute to$4$ its what? said Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Fitzwein. He means the cube to$4$ its root, said Mr. MacStern. What did I say$1$? said Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| O'Meldon. The cute to$4$ its roob, ha ha, said Mr. de Baker. What does that mean, the 000:001;01[' ]| cube to$4$ its root? said Mr. Fitzwein. It means nothing, said Mr. MacStern. What do 000:001;01[' ]| you mean, it means nothing? said Mr. O'Meldon. Mr. MacStern replied, To$4$ its which 000:001;01[' ]| root? A cube may have$1$ any number of roots. Like the long Turkey cucumber, said 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Fitzwein. Not all cubes, said Mr. O'Meldon. Who spoke of all cubes? said Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| MacStern. Not this cube. said Mr. O'Meldon. I know nothing of that, said Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| MacStern. I am completely in the dark, said Mr. Fitzwein. I too, said Mr. Magershon. 000:001;01[' ]| What is wonderful most wonderful? said Mr. Fitzwein. Mr. O'Meldon replied, That 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Ballynack-. Mr. Nackybal, said Louit. Mr. O'Meldon said, That Mr. Nackybal, in 000:001;01[' ]| his head, in the short space of thirty-five or forty seconds, 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| should have$1$ elicited the cube root of a number of six figures. Mr. MacStern said, Forty 000:001;01[' ]| seconds! At least five minutes have elapsed since the figure was first mentioned. 000:001;01[' ]| What is wonderful about that? said Mr. Fitzwein. Perhaps our President has forgotten, 000:001;01[' ]| said Mr. MacStern. Two is the cube root of eight, said Mr. O'Meldon. Indeed, said Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Fitzwein. Yes, twice two is four and twice four is eight, said Mr. O'Meldon. So two is 000:001;01[' ]| the cube root of eight, said Mr. Fitzwein. Yes, and eight is the cube of two, said Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| O'Meldon. Eight is the cube of two, said Mr. Fitzwein.Yes, said Mr. O'Meldon. What is 000:001;01[' ]| there so wonderful about that? said Mr. Fitzwein. Mr. O'Meldon replied, That two 000:001;01[' ]| should be$1$ the cube root of eight, and eight the cube of two, has long ceased to$9$ be$1$ a 000:001;01[' ]| matter for surprise. What is surprising is this, that Mr. Nallyback, in his head, in so short 000:001;01[' ]| a time, should have$1$ elicited the cube root of a number of six figures. Oh, said Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Fitzwein. Is it then so difficult? said Mr. Magershon. Impossible, said Mr. MacStern. 000:001;01[' ]| Well well, said Mr. Fitzwein. A feat never yet achieved by man,and only once by a 000:001;01[' ]| horse,said Mr. O'Meldon. A horse! exclaimed Mr. Fitzwein. a episode in the 000:001;01[' ]| Kulturkampf, said Mr. O'Meldon. Oh, I see, said Mr. Fitzwein. Louit did 000:001;01[' ]| not conceal his satisfaction. Mr. Nackybal lay on his side,apparently asleep. But 000:001;01[' ]| Mr.Nackynack is not a horse, said Mr. Fitzwein. Far from it, said Mr. O'Meldon. You 000:001;01[' ]| are sure of what you advance? said Mr. Magershon. No, said Mr. O'Meldon. There is 000:001;01[' ]| something fishy here, said Mr. MacStern. Not horsey, fishy, ha ha, very good, said Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| de Baker. I protest, said Louit. Against what? said Mr. Fitzwein. Against the word fishy, 000:001;01[' ]| said Louit. Make a note of that, Mr. de Baker, said Mr. Fitzwein. Louit took a sheet 000:001;01[' ]| of paper from his pocket, and handed it to$4$ Mr. O'Meldon.Why, what in the world is this, 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Louit? said Mr. O'Meldon. A list of perfect cubes, said Louit, of six figures and 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| under, ninety-nine in all, with their corresponding cubic roots. What do you want me to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| do$1$ with this, Mr. Louit? said Mr. O'Meldon. Examine my friend, said Louit. Oh, said 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Fitzwein. In my absence, since you question our good faith, said Louit. Tut tut, Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Louit, said Mr. Magershon. Strip him naked, bandage his eyes, send me away, said 000:001;01[' ]| Louit. You forget telepathy, or the transference of thought, said Mr. MacStern. Louit 000:001;01[' ]| said, Cover the cubes when you ask for the cubes of the roots, cover the roots when you 000:001;01[' ]| ask for the roots of the cubes. What difference will that make? said Mr. O'Meldon. You 000:001;01[' ]| will not know the answers before him, said Louit. Mr. Fitzwein left the room, followed by 000:001;01[' ]| his assistants. Louit roused Mr. NackybaI and helped him to$9$ rise. Mr. O'Meldon came 000:001;01[' ]| back, Louit's paper in his hand. I may keep this, Mr. Louit, he said. Certainly, said Louit. 000:001;01[' ]| Thank you, Mr. Louit, said Mr. O'Meldon. Not at all, Mr. O'Meldon, said Louit. Good 000:001;01[' ]| evening to$4$ you both, said Mr. O'Meldon. Louit said, Good evening, Mr. O'Meldon. 000:001;01[' ]| Say good evening nicely to$4$ Mr. O'Meldon, Tom, say, Good evening, Mr. O'Meldon. 000:001;01[' ]| Ning, said Mr. Nackybal. Charming, charming, said Mr. O'Meldon. Mr. O'Meldon left 000:001;01[' ]| the room. Louit and Mr. Nackybal, arm in arm, followed soon after. Soon the room, 000:001;01[' ]| empty now, was grey with shadows of the evening. A porter came, turned on the lights, 000:001;01[' ]| straightened the chairs, saw that all was well and went away. Then the vast room was 000:001;01[' ]| dark, for night had fallen, again. Well, Mr. Graves, the next day, believe it or not, at the 000:001;01[' ]| same hour, in the same place, in the immense and lofty hall flooded now 000:001;01[' ]| with light, the same persons assembled and Mr. Nackybal was thoroughly examined, 000:001;01[' ]| both in cubing and extracting, from the table that Louit had provided. The precautions 000:001;01[' ]| recommended by Louit were adopted, except that Louit was not sent out of the room, 000:001;01[' ]| but posted with his back to$4$ it before the open window, and that Mr. Nackybal was 000:001;01[' ]| permitted 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| to$9$ retain many of his underclothes. From this severe trial Mr. Nackybal emerged with 000:001;01[' ]| distinction, having in his cubing made only twenty-five slight mistakes out of the 000:001;01[' ]| forty-six cubes demanded, and in his rooting, out of the fifty-three extractions 000:001;01[' ]| propounded, committed a mere matter of four trifling errors. The interval between 000:001;01[' ]| question and response, sometimes brief, sometimes as long as one 000:001;01[' ]| minute, averaged, according to$4$ Mr. O'Meldon, who had come with his stop-watch, 000:001;01[' ]| anything from thirty-four to$4$ thirty-five seconds. Once Mr. Nackybal did not answer 000:001;01[' ]| at all. This was a occasion of some unpleasantness. Mr. O'Meldon, his eyes on the 000:001;01[' ]| sheet, announced, Five hundred and nineteen thousand three hundred and thirteen. A 000:001;01[' ]| minute passed, a minute and a quarter, a minute and a half,a minute and 000:001;01[' ]| three-quarters, two minutes, two minutes and a quarter, two minutes and a half, two 000:001;01[' ]| minutes and three quarters, three minutes, three minutes and a quarter, three minutes 000:001;01[' ]| and a half, three minutes and three-quarters, and still Mr. Nackybal did not reply! 000:001;01[' ]| Come come, sir, said Mr. O'Meldon, with acerbity, five hundred and nineteen 000:001;01[' ]| thousand three hundred and thirteen. Still Mr. Nackybal did not reply! Either he 000:001;01[' ]| knows or he does not, said Mr. Magershon. Here Mr. de Baker laughed till the tears 000:001;01[' ]| ran down his cheeks. Mr. Fitzwein said, If you do not hear, say you do not hear. If you 000:001;01[' ]| do not know, say you do not know. Do not keep us waiting here all night. Louit turned 000:001;01[' ]| round and said, Is the number on the list? Silence, Mr. Louit, said Mr. Fitzwein. Is 000:001;01[' ]| the number on the list? thundered Louit, taking a stride forward, and white, under his 000:001;01[' ]| green, with indignation. I accuse the Treasurer, he said, pointing his finger at that 000:001;01[' ]| gentleman, as though there were two, or three or four, or five, or even six treasurers 000:001;01[' ]| in the room, instead of only one, of calling out a number that is not on the list and 000:001;01[' ]| has no more a cube root than my arse. Mr. Louit! cried 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Fitzwein. His what? said Mr. O'Meldon. His arse, said Mr. Magershon. I accuse 000:001;01[' ]| him, said Louit, of attempting, with deliberate and premeditated malevolence, to$9$ bait 000:001;01[' ]| and bewilder a old man who is doing his best, out of friendship to$4$ me, to-to-who is 000:001;01[' ]| doing his best. Annoyed by this feeble conclusion, Louit added, I call that the act of a ~~, 000:001;01[' ]| ~~, and here followed a flow of language so gross that a less 000:001;01[' ]| sweet-tempered man than Mr. O'Meldon would certainly have$1$ been offended, it was so 000:001;01[' ]| gross and fluent. But Mr. O'Meldon's temper was of such sweetness, that when Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Fitzwein rose, and with indignant words began to$9$ close the session, Mr. O'Meldon rose 000:001;01[' ]| and calmed Mr. Fitzwein, explaining how it was that he and no other was to$9$ blame, 000:001;01[' ]| who had taken a nought for a one, and not, as he ought, for a nought. But you did not 000:001;01[' ]| do$1$ this on p-p-purpose, with malice prepense, said Mr. Fitzwein. Then there was a 000:001;01[' ]| silence until Mr. O'Meldon, hanging his head, and swinging it slowly to$8$ and fro, and 000:001;01[' ]| shifting his weight from one foot to$4$ the other, replied, Oh, no no no no no, as heaven is 000:001;01[' ]| my witness, I did not. In that case I must ask Mr. Lingard to$9$ make you a apology, said 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Fitzwein. Oh no no no no no, no apologies, cried Mr. O'Meldon. Mr. Lingard? said 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Magershon. I said Mr. Lingard? said Mr. Fitzwein. Certainly you did, said Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Magershon. What can I have$1$ been thinking of, said Mr. Fitzwein. My mother was a 000:001;01[' ]| Miss Lingard, said Mr. MacStern. Ah to$9$ be$1$ sure, I remember, a charming woman, said 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Fitzwein. She died in giving me birth, said Mr. MacStern. I can well believe that, 000:001;01[' ]| said Mr. de Baker. Charming, charming woman, said Mr. Fitzwein. When the 000:001;01[' ]| demonstration was over, then it was question-time. Through the western windows of 000:001;01[' ]| the vast hall shone the low red winter sun, stirring the air, the chambered air, with its 000:001;01[' ]| angry farewell shining, whilst via the opposite or oriental apertures or lights the 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| murmur rose, appeasing, of the myriad faint clarions of night. It was question-time. Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Fitzwein said, And can he square and square-root too? Mr. O'Meldon said, If he can 000:001;01[' ]| cube he can square, if he can cube-root he can square-root. My question was aimed at 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Louit, said Mr. Fitzwein. Cubing and squaring is not the point, said Louit. How is 000:001;01[' ]| that? said Mr. Fitzwein. Louit replied, A visualizer can cube and square in his head, 000:001;01[' ]| seeing the figures come and go. You stand by the extirpation of the root? said Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Fitzwein. Of the cube root, said Louit. Not of the square root? said Mr. Fitzwein. No, 000:001;01[' ]| said Louit, How is that? said Mr. Fitzwein. A visualizer can extract the square root in his 000:001;01[' ]| head, said Louit, as with a paper and a sheet of pencil. But not the cube root? said Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Fitzwein. Louit said nothing, for what could he have$1$ said? And the fourth root? said Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| O'Meldon. The square root of the square root, said Louit. And the fifth root? said Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Fitzwein. Did he rise on the second day? said Louit. And the sixth root? said Mr. de 000:001;01[' ]| Baker. The square root of the cube root, or the cube root of the square root, said Louit. 000:001;01[' ]| And the seventh root? said Mr. MacStern. Dance on the waters? said Louit. And the 000:001;01[' ]| eighth root? said Mr. O'Meldon. The square root of the square root of the square root, 000:001;01[' ]| said Louit. It was question-time. Rose and gloom, farewell and hail, mingled, clashed, 000:001;01[' ]| vanquished, victor, victor, vanquished, in the vast indifferent chamber. And the ninth 000:001;01[' ]| root? said Mr. Fitzwein. The cube root of the cube root, said Louit. And the tenth root? 000:001;01[' ]| said Mr. de Baker. Involves the fifth, said Louit. And the eleventh root? said Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| MacStern. Into whiskey? said Louit. And the twelfth root? said Mr. O'Meldon. The 000:001;01[' ]| square root of the square root of the cube root, or the cube root of the square root of the 000:001;01[' ]| square root, or the square root of the cube root of the square root, said Louit. And the 000:001;01[' ]| thirteenth root? said Mr. Fitzwein. Enough! cried Mr. Magershon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I beg your pardon? said Mr. Fitzwein. Enough, said Mr. Magershon. Who are you to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| say$1$ enough? said Mr. Fitzwein. Gentlemen, gentlemen, said Mr. MacStern. Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Louit, said Mr. O'Meldon. Sir, said Louit. In the two columns of figures before me, 000:001;01[' ]| this afternoon, said Mr. O'Meldon, the one, or column of roots, has no number of 000:001;01[' ]| more than two digits, and the other, or column of cubes, none of more than six. 000:001;01[' ]| Column of cubes! cried Mr. MacStern. What is the matter now? said Mr. Fitzwein. 000:001;01[' ]| How beautiful, said Mr. MacStern. That is so, Mr. Louit, is it not? said Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| O'Meldon. I have no ear for music, said Louit. I do not refer to$4$ that, said Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| O'Meldon. To$4$ what might you refer? said Mr. Fitzwein. I refer, said Mr. O'Meldon, 000:001;01[' ]| on the one hand to$4$ the absence, in the one column, or column of roots, of any 000:001;01[' ]| number of more than two digits, and on the other, in the other column, or column of 000:001;01[' ]| cubes, to$4$ the absence of any number of more than six digits. That is so, Mr. Louit, is 000:001;01[' ]| it not? You have the list before you, said Louit, Column of roots is very pretty too, I 000:001;01[' ]| think, said Mr. de Baker. Yes, but not so pretty as column of cubes, said Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| MacStern. Well, perhaps not quite, but very nearly, said Mr. de Baker. Mr. de Baker 000:001;01[' ]| sang 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Said the column of cubes to$4$ the column of roots, 000:001;01[' ]| Oh what will you have$1$ to$9$ drink? 000:001;01[' ]| Said the column of cubes to$4$ the column of roots, 000:001;01[' ]| Oh what will you have$1$ to$9$ drink? 000:001;01[' ]| Said the column of cubes to$4$ the column of roots, 000:001;01[' ]| Oh what will you have$1$ to$9$ drink? 000:001;01[' ]| Why, thank you, sir, said the column of roots, 000:001;01[' ]| I will have$1$ a bottle of ink. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Hahahaha, haha, ha, hum, said Mr. de Baker. Any more questions, before I go home 000:001;01[' ]| to$4$ bed, said Mr. Fitzwein. I 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| was raising a point, said Mr. O'Meldon, when I was interrupted. Perhaps he could go 000:001;01[' ]| on from where he left off said Mr. Magershon. The point I was raising, said Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| O'Meldon, when I was interrupted, is this, that of the two columns of figures here 000:001;01[' ]| before me this afternoon, the one, or ~~. He has said this twice already, said Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| MacStern. If not three times, said Mr. de Baker. Go on from where you left off, said 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Magershon, not from where you began. Or are you like Darwin's caterpillar? 000:001;01[' ]| Darwin's what? said Mr. de Baker. Darwin's caterpillar? said Mr. Magershon. What 000:001;01[' ]| was the matter with him? said Mr. MacStern. The matter with him was this, said Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Magershon, that when he was disturbed in the building of his hammock ~~. Are we 000:001;01[' ]| here to$9$ discuss caterpillars? said Mr. O'Meldon. Raise your point for the love of God, 000:001;01[' ]| said Mr. Fitzwein, and let me get home to$4$ my wife. He added, And children. The 000:001;01[' ]| point I was in the act of raising, said Mr. O'Meldon, when I was so rudely 000:001;01[' ]| interrupted, was this, that if in the left-hand column, or column of roots, instead of 000:001;01[' ]| there being figures of two digits at the most, there were figures of three digits, and 000:001;01[' ]| even four digits, to$9$ go no further, then in the right hand column, or column of cubes, 000:001;01[' ]| instead of there being figures of six digits at the most, there would be$1$ figures of 000:001;01[' ]| seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven and even twelve digits. A silence followed these 000:001;01[' ]| words. Would there not, Mr. Louit, said Mr. O'Meldon. Very likely, said Louit. Then 000:001;01[' ]| why, said Mr. Meldon, leaning forward and bringing down his fist with a thump on 000:001;01[' ]| the table, why are there not? Are there not what? said Mr. Fitzwein. What I have just 000:001;01[' ]| said, said Mr. O'Meldon. What was that? said Mr. Fitzwein. Mr. O'Meldon replied, 000:001;01[' ]| On the one hand, in the one column ~~. Or column of roots, said Mr. de Baker. Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| O'Meldon continued, Figures of three digits and even four ~~. To$9$ go no further, said 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. MacStern. Mr. O'Meldon continued, 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| And on the other, in the other ~~. Or column of cubes, said Mr. Magershon. Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| O'Meldon continued, Figures of seven ~~. Of eight, said Mr. de Baker. Of nine, said 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. MacStern. Of ten, said Mr. Magershon. Of eleven, said Mr. de Baker. And even 000:001;01[' ]| of twelve, said Mr. MacStern. Digits, said Mr. Magershon. Why should there be$1$? 000:001;01[' ]| said Mr. Fitzwein. Little by little the bird, said Louit. Am I then to$9$ suppose, Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Louit, said Mr. O'Meldon, that if I were to$9$ ask this fellow for the cube root of say ~~ 000:001;01[' ]| he bent over his paper ~~ let us say$1$ nine hundred and seventy-three million two 000:001;01[' ]| hundred and fifty-two thousand two hundred and seventy-one, he could not supply it? 000:001;01[' ]| Not this evening, said Louit. Or, said Mr. O'Meldon, reading again from his paper, 000:001;01[' ]| nine hundred and ninety-eight billion seven hundred million one hundred and 000:001;01[' ]| twenty-nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine, for example? Not just now, 000:001;01[' ]| some other time, said Louit. Ha, said Mr. O'Meldon. Is your point now raised, Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| O'Meldon, said Mr. Fitzwein. It is, said Mr. O'Meldon. I am glad to$9$ hear that, said 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Fitzwein. You will tell us about it later, said Mr. Magershon. Where have I seen 000:001;01[' ]| that face before, said Mr. Fitzwein. Just one more thing, said Mr. MacStern. The sun 000:001;01[' ]| has now sunk, in the west, said Mr. de Baker, turning his head, and extending his 000:001;01[' ]| arm, in that direction. Then the others turned too, and looked long, at the place 000:001;01[' ]| where the sun had been, but a moment before. But Mr. de Baker whirled round and 000:001;01[' ]| pointed in the opposite direction, saying, While in the orient night is falling fast. 000:001;01[' ]| Then the others to$4$ those shimmering windows turned them round, to$4$ the sky dark 000:001;01[' ]| grey below, and lighter grey above. For the night seemed less to$9$ fall, than to$9$ rise, 000:001;01[' ]| from below, like another day. But finally as from the filling grave, or with the loved 000:001;01[' ]| one disappearing conveyance, mark well my words, Mr. Graves, with the loved one 000:001;01[' ]| disappearing conveyance, slowly their 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| sighing bodies they tore away, and Mr. Fitzwein began briskly to$9$ gather up his papers, 000:001;01[' ]| for in that ending light he had found the place, the ancient place, where he had seen 000:001;01[' ]| that face before, and so he rose and rapidly left the hall (as though he could have$1$ rapidly 000:001;01[' ]| left the hall without rising), followed more leisurely by his assistants, in this order, first 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. O'Meldon, and then Mr. MacStern, and then Mr. De Baker, and then Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Magershon, as chance would have$1$ it, or some other force. And then Mr. O'Meldon, 000:001;01[' ]| pausing on his way to$9$ shake Louit by the hand, and pat Mr. Nackybal on the head, with a 000:001;01[' ]| quick pat that he wiped off at once discreetly on his trousers, was overtaken and left 000:001;01[' ]| behind, first by Mr. MacStern, and then by Mr. de Baker, and then by Mr. Magershon. 000:001;01[' ]| And then Mr. MacStern, halting to$9$ formulate that one more thing, was overtaken and left 000:001;01[' ]| behind, first by Mr. de Baker, and then by Mr. Magershon. And then Mr. de Baker, 000:001;01[' ]| kneeling to$9$ secure his lace, which had come undone, as laces will, was passed by Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Magershon, who swept on slowly alone, like something out of Poe, towards the door, 000:001;01[' ]| and would indeed have$1$ reached it, and passed through it, had not a sudden thought 000:001;01[' ]| stiffened him in his stride, so that he stood, two feet between the foot-following feet, on 000:001;01[' ]| left sole and right toe, in the uncertain equilibrium of erect consternation. And now the 000:001;01[' ]| order was reversed in which, following Mr. Fitzwein, now in the eleven tram, they had 000:001;01[' ]| set out, so that the first was last, and the last first, and the second third, and the third 000:001;01[' ]| second, and that which had been, in order of march, Mr. O'Meldon, Mr. MacStern, Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| de Baker and Mr. Magershon, was now, brooding, kneeling, brooding, greeting, Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Magershon, Mr. de Baker, Mr. MacStern. and Mr. O'Meldon. But hardly had Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| O'Meldon, ceasing to$9$ greet, moved on towards Mr. MacStern, when Mr. MacStern, 000:001;01[' ]| ceasing to$9$ brood, moved on, accompanied by Mr. O'Meldon, towards Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| de Baker. But hardly had Mr. O'Meldon and Mr. MacStern, ceasing, first Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| O'Meldon, then Mr. MacStern, the first to$9$ greet, the second to$9$ brood, moved on 000:001;01[' ]| together towards Mr. de Baker, when Mr. de Baker, ceasing to$9$ kneel, moved on, 000:001;01[' ]| accompanied by Mr. Meldon and Mr. MacStern, towards Mr. Magershon. But hardly 000:001;01[' ]| had Mr. O'Meldon and Mr. MacStern and Mr. de Baker, ceasing, first Mr. O'Meldon, 000:001;01[' ]| then Mr. MacStern, then Mr. de Baker, the first to$9$ greet, the second to$9$ brood, the 000:001;01[' ]| third to$9$ kneel, moved on together towards Mr. Magershon, when Mr Magershon, 000:001;01[' ]| ceasing to$9$ brood, moved on, accompanied by Mr. O'Meldon and Mr. MacStern and 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. de Baker towards the door. And so through the door, after the customary 000:001;01[' ]| coagulation, the holding back, the thrust resisting, the sideways stepping, the onward 000:001;01[' ]| urging, and the little landing along, and down the noble stairs, and out into the court 000:001;01[' ]| now rife with night, one by one they passed, Mr. MacStern, Mr. O'Meldon, Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Magershon, and Mr. de Baker, in that order, as chance would have$1$ it, or some other 000:001;01[' ]| agency. So that who was first first and second last now was second, and who was 000:001;01[' ]| first second and second third now was first, and who was first third and second 000:001;01[' ]| second now was last, and who was first last and second first now was third. And 000:001;01[' ]| soon after Mr. Nackybal put on his outer clothes and went away. And soon after 000:001;01[' ]| Louit went away. And Louit, going down the stairs, met the bitter stout porter Power 000:001;01[' ]| coming up. And as they passed the porter raised his cap and Louit smiled. And they 000:001;01[' ]| did well. For had not Louit smiled, then Power had not raised his cap, and had not 000:001;01[' ]| Power raised his cap, then Louit had not smiled, but they had passed, each on his 000:001;01[' ]| way, Louit down, Power up, the one unsmiling, and the other covered. Now the next 000:001;01[' ]| day ~~. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But here Arthur seemed to$9$ tire, of his story, for he left 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Graves, and went back, into the house. Watt was thankful for this, for he too 000:001;01[' ]| was tired, of Arthur's story, to$4$ which he had listened with the closest attention. And 000:001;01[' ]| he could truly say$1$, as he did, in after times, that of all the things he ever saw or 000:001;01[' ]| heard, during his stay in Mr. Knott's establishment, he heard none so well, saw none 000:001;01[' ]| so clear, as Arthur and Mr. Graves that sunny afternoon, on the lawn, and Louit, and 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Nackybal, and Mr. O'Meldon, and Mr. Magershon, and Mr. Fitzwein, and Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| de Baker, and Mr. MacStern, and all the things they did, and the words they said. He 000:001;01[' ]| understood it all too, very well, though he could not vouch for the accuracy of the 000:001;01[' ]| figures, which he had not taken the trouble to$9$ check, having no head for figures. 000:001;01[' ]| And if the words were not the exact words employed by Arthur, by Louit, by Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Nackybal and the others, they were not far out. He enjoyed this incident too, at the 000:001;01[' ]| time, more than he had enjoyed anything for a long time, or would enjoy anything 000:001;01[' ]| again, for a considerable time. But it tired him, in the end, and he was glad when 000:001;01[' ]| Arthur left off, and went away. Then Watt climbed down, from off his mound, 000:001;01[' ]| thinking how nice it would be$1$ to$9$ go back into the cool house gloom, and drink a 000:001;01[' ]| glass of milk. But he did not care to$9$ leave Mr. Knott all alone in the garden, though 000:001;01[' ]| there was really no reason why he should not. Then he saw the branches of a tree in 000:001;01[' ]| agitation, and Mr. Knott climbing down among them, from branch it almost seemed 000:001;01[' ]| to$4$ branch, lower and lower, until he reached the ground. Then Mr. Knott turned 000:001;01[' ]| towards the house, and Watt followed after, very pleased with the afternoon he had 000:001;01[' ]| spent, on his mound, and looking forward to$4$ the nice glass of cold milk that he 000:001;01[' ]| would drink, in the cool, in the gloom, in a moment. And Mr. Graves remained 000:001;01[' ]| alone, leaning on his fork, all alone, while the shadows lengthened. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt learned later, from Arthur, that the telling of this 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| story, while it lasted, before Arthur grew tired, had transported Arthur far from Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Knott's premises, of which, of the mysteries of which, of the fixity of which, Arthur had 000:001;01[' ]| sometimes more, than he could bear. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Arthur was a very nice open fellow, not at all like Erskine. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| In another place, he said, from another place, he might have$1$ told this story to$4$ its end, 000:001;01[' ]| told the true identity of Mr. Nackybal (his real name was Tisler and he lived in a room 000:001;01[' ]| on the canal), told his method of cube-rooting in his head (he merely knew by heart the 000:001;01[' ]| cubes of one to$4$ nine, and even this was not indispensable, and that one gives one, and 000:001;01[' ]| two eight, and three seven, and four four, and five five, and six six, and seven three, and 000:001;01[' ]| eight two, and nine nine, and of course nought nought), and told the delinquencies of 000:001;01[' ]| Louit, his fall and subsequent ascension, running Bando. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But on Mr. Knott's premises, from Mr. Knott's premises, this was not possible, for 000:001;01[' ]| Arthur. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| For what stopped Arthur, and made him go silent, in the middle of his story, was not 000:001;01[' ]| really fatigue with his story, for he was not really fatigued, but the desire to$9$ return, to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| leave Louit and return, to$4$ Mr. Knott's house, to$4$ its mysteries, to$4$ its fixity. For he had 000:001;01[' ]| been absent longer from them, than he could bear. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But perhaps in another place, from another place, Arthur would never have$1$ begun this 000:001;01[' ]| story. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| For there was no other place, but only there where Mr. Knott was, whose mysteries, 000:001;01[' ]| whose fixity, whose fixity of mystery, so thrust forth, with such a thrust. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But if he had begun, in some other place, from some other place, to$9$ tell this story, then 000:001;01[' ]| he would very likely have$1$ told it to$4$ the end. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| For there was no place, but only there where Mr. Knott 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| was, whose peculiar properties, having first thrust forth, with such a thrust, called 000:001;01[' ]| back so soon, with such a call. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt sympathized with this predicament. Had not he himself, in the beginning, 000:001;01[' ]| resorted to$4$ similar shifts? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Was he finished with them now? Well, almost. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Fixity was not the word he would have$1$ chosen. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt had little to$9$ say$1$ on the subject of the second or closing period of his stay in Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Knott's house. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| In the course of the second or closing period of Watt's stay in Mr. Knott's house, the 000:001;01[' ]| information acquired by Watt, on that subject, was scant. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Of the nature of Mr. Knott himself Watt remained in particular ignorance. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Of the many excellent reasons for this, two seemed to$4$ Watt to$9$ merit mention: on the 000:001;01[' ]| one hand the exiguity of the material propounded to$4$ his senses, and on the other the 000:001;01[' ]| decay of these. What little there was to$9$ see, to$9$ hear, to$9$ smell, to$9$ taste, to$9$ touch, like a 000:001;01[' ]| man in a stupor he saw it, heard it, smelt it, tasted it, touched it. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| In empty hush, in airless gloom, Mr. Knott abode, in the large room set aside for his 000:001;01[' ]| exclusive enjoyment, and that of his attendant. And from it this ambience followed 000:001;01[' ]| him forth, and when he moved, in the house, in the garden, with him moved, 000:001;01[' ]| dimming all, dulling all, stilling all, numbing all, where he passed. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The clothes that Mr. Knott wore, in his room, about the house, amid his garden, were 000:001;01[' ]| very various, very very various. Now heavy, now light; now smart, now dowdy; now 000:001;01[' ]| sober, now gaudy; now decent, now daring (his skirtless bathing-costume, for 000:001;01[' ]| example). Often too he wore, by his fireside, or as he mooched about the rooms, the 000:001;01[' ]| stairs, the passage-ways of his home, a hat, or a cap, or, imprisoning his rare his 000:001;01[' ]| wanton hair, a net. And as often his head was bare. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| As for his feet, sometimes he wore on each a sock, or on the one a sock and on the 000:001;01[' ]| other a stocking, or a boot, or a shoe, or a slipper, or a sock and boot, or a sock and 000:001;01[' ]| shoe, or a sock and slipper, or a stocking and boot, or a stocking and shoe, or a 000:001;01[' ]| stocking and slipper, or nothing at all. And sometimes he wore on each a stocking, or 000:001;01[' ]| on the one a stocking and on the other a boot, or a shoe, or a slipper, or a sock and 000:001;01[' ]| boot, or a sock and shoe, or a sock and slipper, or a stocking and boot, or a stocking 000:001;01[' ]| and shoe, or a stocking and slipper, or nothing at all. And sometimes he wore on 000:001;01[' ]| each a boot, or on the one a boot and on the other a shoe, or a slipper, or a sock and 000:001;01[' ]| boot, or a sock and shoe, or a sock and slipper, or a stocking and boot, or a stocking 000:001;01[' ]| and shoe, or a stocking and slipper, or nothing at all. And sometimes he wore on 000:001;01[' ]| each a shoe, or on the one a shoe and on the other a slipper, or a sock and boot, or a 000:001;01[' ]| sock and shoe, or a sock and slipper, or a stocking and boot, or a stocking and shoe, 000:001;01[' ]| or a stocking and slipper, or nothing at all. And sometimes he wore on each a slipper, 000:001;01[' ]| or on the one a slipper and on the other a sock and boot, or a sock and shoe, or a sock 000:001;01[' ]| and slipper, or a stocking and boot, or a stocking and shoe, or a stocking and slipper, 000:001;01[' ]| or nothing at all. And sometimes he wore on each a sock and boot, or on the one a 000:001;01[' ]| sock and boot and on the other a sock and shoe, or a sock and slipper, or a stocking 000:001;01[' ]| and boot, or a stocking and shoe, or a stocking and slipper, or nothing at all. And 000:001;01[' ]| sometimes he wore on each a sock and shoe, or on the one a sock and shoe and on 000:001;01[' ]| the other a sock and slipper, or a stocking and boot, or a stocking and shoe, or a 000:001;01[' ]| stocking and slipper, or nothing at all. And sometimes he wore on each a sock and 000:001;01[' ]| slipper, or on the one a sock and slipper and on the other a stocking and boot, or a 000:001;01[' ]| stocking and shoe, or a stocking and slipper, or nothing at all. And sometimes he 000:001;01[' ]| wore on each a stocking and boot, or on the one a stocking and boot 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| and on the other a stocking and shoe, or a stocking and slipper, or nothing at all. And 000:001;01[' ]| sometimes he wore on each a stocking and shoe, or on the one a stocking and shoe and 000:001;01[' ]| on the other a stocking and slipper, or nothing at all. And sometimes he wore on each a 000:001;01[' ]| stocking and slipper, or on the one a stocking and slipper and on the other nothing at all. 000:001;01[' ]| And sometimes he went barefoot. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| To$9$ think, when one is no longer young, when one is not yet old, that one is no longer 000:001;01[' ]| young, that one is not yet old, that is perhaps something. To$9$ pause, towards the close of 000:001;01[' ]| one's three-hour day, and consider: the darkening ease, the brightening trouble; the 000:001;01[' ]| pleasure pleasure because it was, the pain pain because it shall be$1$; the glad acts grown 000:001;01[' ]| proud, the proud acts growing stubborn; the panting the trembling towards a being gone, 000:001;01[' ]| a being to$9$ come; and the true true no longer, and the false true not yet. And to$9$ decide not 000:001;01[' ]| to$9$ smile after all, sitting in the shade, hearing the cicadas, wishing it were night, wishing 000:001;01[' ]| it were morning, saying, No, it is not the heart, no, it is not the liver, no, it is not the 000:001;01[' ]| prostate, no it is not the ovaries, no, it is muscular, it is nervous. Then the gnashing ends, 000:001;01[' ]| or it goes on, and one is in the pit, in the hollow, the longing for longing gone, the horror 000:001;01[' ]| of horror, and one is in the hollow, at the foot of all the hills at last, the ways down, the 000:001;01[' ]| ways up, and free, free at last, for a instant free at last, nothing at last. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But whatever he put on, in the beginning, for by midnight he was always in his 000:001;01[' ]| nightshirt, whatever he put on then, on his head, on his body, on his feet, he did not 000:001;01[' ]| touch again, but kept on all the day, in his room, in his house, in his grounds, until the 000:001;01[' ]| time came to$9$ put on his nightshirt, once again. Yes, not one button would he touch, to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| button or unbutton it, except those that nature obliged him to$9$, and these he habitually 000:001;01[' ]| left unbuttoned, from the moment of his putting on his clothes, and adjusting them to$4$ his 000:001;01[' ]| satisfaction, 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| to$4$ the moment of his taking them off, once more. So that he was not seldom to$9$ be$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| seen, in his room, in his house, in his grounds, in strange and unseasonable costume, 000:001;01[' ]| as though he were unaware of the weather, or of the time of year. And to$9$ see him 000:001;01[' ]| sometimes thus, barefoot and for boating dressed, in the snow, in the slush, in the icy 000:001;01[' ]| winter wind, or, when summer came again, by his fire, charged with furs, was to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| wonder, Does he seek to$9$ know again, what is cold, what is heat? But this was a 000:001;01[' ]| anthropomorphic insolence of short duration. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| For except, one, not to$9$ need, and, two, a witness to$4$ his not needing, Knott needed 000:001;01[' ]| nothing, as far as Watt could see. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| If he ate, and he ate well; if he drank, and he drank heartily; if he slept, and he slept 000:001;01[' ]| sound; if he did other things, and he did other things regularly, it was not from need 000:001;01[' ]| of food, or drink, or sleep, or other things, no, but from the need never to$9$ need, never 000:001;01[' ]| never to$9$ need, food, and drink, and sleep, and other things. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| This was Watt's first surmise of any interest on the subject of Mr. Knott. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| And Mr. Knott, needing nothing if not, one, not to$9$ need, and, two, a witness to$4$ his 000:001;01[' ]| not needing, of himself knew nothing. And so he needed to$9$ be$1$ witnessed. Not that he 000:001;01[' ]| might know, no, but that he might not cease. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| This, on the subject of Mr. Knott, was Watt's second, and closing, conjecture not 000:001;01[' ]| entirely gratuitous. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Halting, faint with dubiety, from Watt's lips they fell. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| His habitual tone was one of assurance. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But what kind of witness was Watt, weak now of eye, hard of hearing, and with even 000:001;01[' ]| the more intimate senses greatly below par? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| A needy witness, a imperfect witness. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The better to$9$ witness, the worse to$9$ witness. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| That with his need he might witness its absence. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| That imperfect he might witness it ill. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| That Mr. Knott might never cease, but ever almost cease. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Such appeared to$9$ be$1$ the arrangement. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| When Mr. Knott moved about the house he did so as one unfamiliar with the 000:001;01[' ]| premises, fumbling at doors immemorially locked, kneeling rapt on window-seats, 000:001;01[' ]| stumbling in the dark, seeking high and low the water-closet, pausing irresolute at 000:001;01[' ]| the foot of the stairs, pausing irresolute at the head of the stairs. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| When Mr. Knott moved in the midst of his garden, he did so as one unacquainted 000:001;01[' ]| with its beauties, looking at the trees, looking at the flowers, looking at the bushes, 000:001;01[' ]| looking at the vegetables, as though they, or he, had been created in the course of the 000:001;01[' ]| night. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But it was in his room, though he sometimes offered to$9$ leave it by the 000:001;01[' ]| hanging-cupboard, that Mr. Knott seemed least a stranger, and appeared to$4$ best 000:001;01[' ]| advantage. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Here he stood. Here he sat. Here he knelt. Here he lay. Here he moved, to$8$ and fro, 000:001;01[' ]| from the door to$4$ the window, from the window to$4$ the door; from the window to$4$ the 000:001;01[' ]| door, from the door to$4$ the window; from the fire to$4$ the bed, from the bed to$4$ the fire; 000:001;01[' ]| from the bed to$4$ the fire, from the fire to$4$ the bed; from the door to$4$ the fire, from the 000:001;01[' ]| fire to$4$ the door; from the fire to$4$ the door, from the door to$4$ the fire; from the window 000:001;01[' ]| to$4$ the bed, from the bed to$4$ the window; from the bed to$4$ the window, from the 000:001;01[' ]| window to$4$ the bed; from the fire to$4$ the window, from the window to$4$ the fire; from 000:001;01[' ]| the window to$4$ the fire, from the fire to$4$ the window; from the bed to$4$ the door, from 000:001;01[' ]| the door to$4$ the bed; from the door to$4$ the bed, from the bed to$4$ the door; from the door 000:001;01[' ]| to$4$ the window, from the window to$4$ the fire; from the fire to$4$ the window, from the 000:001;01[' ]| window to$4$ the door; from the window to$4$ the door, from the door to$4$ the bed; from the 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| bed to$4$ the door, from the door to$4$ the window; from the fire to$4$ the bed, from the bed to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| the window; from the window to$4$ the bed, from the bed to$4$ the fire; from the bed to$4$ the 000:001;01[' ]| fire, from the fire to$4$ the door; from the door to$4$ the fire, from the fire to$4$ the bed; from the 000:001;01[' ]| door to$4$ the window, from the window to$4$ the bed; from the bed to$4$ the window, from the 000:001;01[' ]| window to$4$ the door; from the window to$4$ the door, from the door to$4$ the fire; from the 000:001;01[' ]| fire to$4$ the door, from the door to$4$ the window; from the fire to$4$ the bed, from the bed to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| the door; from the door to$4$ the bed, from the bed to$4$ the fire; from the bed to$4$ the fire, 000:001;01[' ]| from the fire to$4$ the window from the window to$4$ the fire, from the fire to$4$ the bed; from 000:001;01[' ]| the door to$4$ the fire, from the fire to$4$ the window; from the window to$4$ the fire, from the 000:001;01[' ]| fire to$4$ the door; from the window to$4$ the bed, from the bed to$4$ the door; from the door to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| the bed, from the bed to$4$ the window; from the fire to$4$ the window, from the window to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| the bed; from the bed to$4$ the window, from the window to$4$ the fire; from the bed to$4$ the 000:001;01[' ]| door, from the door to$4$ the fire; from the fire to$4$ the door, from the door to$4$ the bed. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| This room was furnished solidly and with taste. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| This solid and tasteful furniture was subjected by Mr. Knott to$4$ frequent changes of 000:001;01[' ]| position, both absolute and relative. Thus it was not rare to$9$ find, on the Sunday, the 000:001;01[' ]| tallboy on its feet by the fire, and the dressing-table on its head by the bed, and the 000:001;01[' ]| night-stool on its face by the door, and the wash-hand-stand on its back by the window; 000:001;01[' ]| and, on the Monday, the tallboy on its back by the bed, and the dressing-table on its face 000:001;01[' ]| by the door, and the night-stool on its back by the window, and the wash-hand-stand on 000:001;01[' ]| its feet by the fire; and, on the Tuesday, the tallboy on its face by the door, and the 000:001;01[' ]| dressing-table on its back by the window, and the night-stool on its feet by the fire, and 000:001;01[' ]| the wash-hand-stand on its head by the bed; and, on the 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Wednesday, the tallboy on its back by the window, and the dressing-table on its feet 000:001;01[' ]| by the fire, and the night-stool on its head by the bed, and the wash-hand-stand on its 000:001;01[' ]| face by the door; and, on the Thursday, the tallboy on its side by the fire, and the 000:001;01[' ]| dressing-table on its feet by the bed, and the night-stool on its head by the door, and 000:001;01[' ]| the wash-hand-stand on its face by the window; and, on the Friday, the tallboy on its 000:001;01[' ]| feet by the bed, and the dressing-table on its head by the door, and the night-stool on 000:001;01[' ]| its face by the window, and the wash-hand-stand on its side by the fire; and, on the 000:001;01[' ]| Saturday, the tallboy on its head by the door, and the dressing-table on its face by the 000:001;01[' ]| window, and the night-stool on its side by the fire, and the wash-hand-stand on its 000:001;01[' ]| feet by the bed; and, on the Sunday week, the tallboy on its face by the window, and 000:001;01[' ]| the dressing-table on its side by the fire, and the night-stool on its feet by the bed, 000:001;01[' ]| and the wash-hand-stand on its head by the door; and, on the Monday week, the 000:001;01[' ]| tallboy on its back by the fire, and the dressing-table on its side by the bed, and the 000:001;01[' ]| night-stool on its feet by the door, and the wash-hand-stand on its head by the 000:001;01[' ]| window; and, on the Tuesday week, the tallboy on its side by the bed, and the 000:001;01[' ]| dressing-table on its feet by the door, and the night-stool on its head by the window, 000:001;01[' ]| and the wash-hand-stand on its back by the fire; and, on the Wednesday week, the 000:001;01[' ]| tallboy on its feet by the door, and the dressing-table on its head by the window, and 000:001;01[' ]| the night-stool on its back by the fire, and the wash-hand-stand on its side by the bed; 000:001;01[' ]| and, on the Thursday week, the tallboy on its head by the window, and the 000:001;01[' ]| dressing-table on its back by the fire, and the night-stool on its side by the bed, and 000:001;01[' ]| the wash-hand-stand on its feet by the door; and, on the Friday week, the tallboy on 000:001;01[' ]| its face by the fire, and the dressing-table on its back by the bed, and the night-stool 000:001;01[' ]| on its side by the door, and the 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| wash-hand-stand on its feet by the window; and, on the Saturday week, the tallboy on 000:001;01[' ]| its back by the bed, and the dressing-table on its side by the door, and the night-stool 000:001;01[' ]| on its feet by the window, and the wash-hand-stand on its face by the fire; and, on the 000:001;01[' ]| Sunday fortnight, the tallboy on its side by the door, and the dressing-table on its feet 000:001;01[' ]| by the window, and the night-stool on its face by the fire, and the wash-hand-stand 000:001;01[' ]| on its back by the bed; and, on the Monday fortnight, the tallboy on its feet by the 000:001;01[' ]| window, and the dressing-table on its face by the fire, and the night-stool on its back 000:001;01[' ]| by the bed, and the wash-hand-stand on its side by the door; and, on the Tuesday 000:001;01[' ]| fortnight, the tallboy on its head by the fire, and the dressing-table on its face by the 000:001;01[' ]| bed, and the night-stool on its back by the door, and the wash-hand-stand on its side 000:001;01[' ]| by the window and, on the Wednesday fortnight, the tallboy on its face by the bed, 000:001;01[' ]| and the dressing-table on its back by the door, and the night-stool on its side by the 000:001;01[' ]| window, and the wash-hand-stand on its head by the fire; and, on the Thursday 000:001;01[' ]| fortnight, the tallboy on its back by the door, and the dressing-table on its side by the 000:001;01[' ]| window, and the night-stool on its head by the fire, and the wash-hand-stand on its 000:001;01[' ]| face by the bed; and, on the Friday fortnight, the tallboy on its side by the window, 000:001;01[' ]| and the dressing-table on its head by the fire, and the night-stool on its face by the 000:001;01[' ]| bed, and the wash-hand-stand on its back by the door, for example, not at all rare, to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| consider only, over a period of nineteen days only, the tallboy, the dressing-table, the 000:001;01[' ]| night-stool and the wash-hand-stand, and their feet, and heads, and faces, and backs 000:001;01[' ]| and unspecified sides, and the fire, and the bed, and the door, and the window, not at 000:001;01[' ]| all rare. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| For the chairs also, to$9$ mention only the chairs also, were never still. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| For the corners also, to$9$ mention only the corners also, were seldom vacant. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Alone the bed maintained the illusion of fixity, the bed so tasteful, the bed so solid, 000:001;01[' ]| that it was round, and clamped to$4$ the ground. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Knott's head, Mr. Knott's feet, in nightly displacements of almost one minute, 000:001;01[' ]| completed in twelve months their circuit of this solitary couch, His coccyx also, and 000:001;01[' ]| adjacent gear, performed their little annual revolution, as appeared from a 000:001;01[' ]| examination of the sheets (changed regularly on Saint Patrick's Day), and even of the 000:001;01[' ]| mattress. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Of the strange doings above stairs, that had so preoccupied Watt during his time 000:001;01[' ]| below stairs, no explanation was to$9$ be$1$ had. But they did not preoccupy Watt any 000:001;01[' ]| longer. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| From time to$4$ time Mr. Knott disappeared from his room, leaving Watt alone. Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Knott was there one moment, and the next gone. But on these occasions Watt, unlike 000:001;01[' ]| Erskine, did not feel impelled to$9$ institute a search, above stairs and below, 000:001;01[' ]| assassinating with his tread the quiet house, and pestering his colleague in the 000:001;01[' ]| kitchen, no, but he remained quietly where he was, not wholly asleep, not wholly 000:001;01[' ]| awake, until Mr. Knott came, back. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt suffered neither from the presence of Mr. Knott, nor from his absence. When he 000:001;01[' ]| was with him, he was content to$9$ be$1$ with him, and when he was away from him, he 000:001;01[' ]| was content to$9$ be$1$ away from him. Never with relief, never with regret, did he leave 000:001;01[' ]| him at night, or in the morning come to$4$ him again. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| This ataraxy covered the entire house-room, the pleasure-garden, the vegetable 000:001;01[' ]| garden and of course Arthur. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| So that when the time came for Watt to$9$ depart, he walked to$4$ the gate with the utmost 000:001;01[' ]| serenity. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But he was no sooner in the public road than he burst 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| into tears. He stood there, he remembered, with bowed head, and a bag in each hand, 000:001;01[' ]| and his tears fell, a slow minute rain, to$4$ the ground, which had recently been repaired. 000:001;01[' ]| He would not have$1$ believed such a thing possible, if he had not been there himself. The 000:001;01[' ]| humidity thus lent to$4$ the road surface must, be$1$ reckoned, have$1$ survived his departure by 000:001;01[' ]| as long as two minutes at least, if not three. Fortunately the weather was fine. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt's room contained no information. It was a small, dingy, and, though Watt was a 000:001;01[' ]| man of some bodily cleanliness, fetid compartment. Its one window commanded a very 000:001;01[' ]| fine view of a race-course. The painting, or coloured reproduction, yielded nothing 000:001;01[' ]| further. On the contrary, as time passed, its significance diminished. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| From Mr. Knott's voice nothing was to$9$ be$1$ learnt. Between Mr. Knott and Watt no 000:001;01[' ]| conversation passed. From time to$4$ time, for no apparent reason, Mr. Knott opened his 000:001;01[' ]| mouth in song. From bass to$4$ tenor, all male registers were employed by him, with equal 000:001;01[' ]| success. He did not sing well, in Watt's opinion, but Watt had heard worse singers. The 000:001;01[' ]| music of these songs was of a extreme monotony. For the voice, save for a occasional 000:001;01[' ]| raucous sally, both up and down, to$4$ the extent of a tenth, or even a eleventh, did not 000:001;01[' ]| leave the pitch at which, having elected to$9$ begin, it seemed obliged to$9$ remain, and 000:001;01[' ]| finally to$9$ end. The words of these songs were either without meaning, or derived from 000:001;01[' ]| a idiom with which Watt, a very fair linguist, had no acquaintance. The open a sound 000:001;01[' ]| was predominant, and the explosives k and g. Mr. Knott talked often to$4$ himself too, with 000:001;01[' ]| great variety and vehemence of intonation and gesticulation, but this so softly that it 000:001;01[' ]| came, a wild dim chatter, meaningless to$4$ Watt's ailing ears. This was a noise of which 000:001;01[' ]| Watt grew exceedingly fond. Not that he was sorry when it ceased, not that he was glad 000:001;01[' ]| when it came 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| again, no. But while it sounded he was gladdened, as by the rain on the bamboos, or 000:001;01[' ]| even rushes, as by the land against the waves, doomed to$9$ cease, doomed to$9$ come 000:001;01[' ]| again. Knott was also addicted to$4$ solitary dactylic ejaculations of extraordinary 000:001;01[' ]| vigour, accompanied by spasms of the members. The chief of these were: Exelmans! 000:001;01[' ]| Cavendish! Habbakuk! Ecchymose! 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| With regard to$4$ the so important matter of Mr. Knott's physical appearance, Watt had 000:001;01[' ]| unfortunately little or nothing to$9$ say$1$. For one day Mr. Knott would be$1$ tall, fat, pale 000:001;01[' ]| and dark, and the next thin, small, flushed and fair, and the next sturdy, middle-sized, 000:001;01[' ]| yellow and ginger, and the next small, fat, pale and fair, and the next middle-sized, 000:001;01[' ]| flushed, thin and ginger, and the next tall, yellow, dark and sturdy, and the next fat, 000:001;01[' ]| middle-sized, ginger and pale, and the next tall, thin, dark and flushed, and the next 000:001;01[' ]| small, fair, sturdy and yellow, and the next tall, ginger, pale and fat, and the next 000:001;01[' ]| thin, flushed, small and dark, and the next fair, sturdy, middle-sized and yellow, and 000:001;01[' ]| the next dark, small, fat and pale, and the next fair, middle-sized, flushed and thin, 000:001;01[' ]| and the next sturdy, ginger, tall and yellow, and the next pale, fat, middle-sized and 000:001;01[' ]| fair, and the next flushed, tall, thin and ginger, and the next yellow, small, dark and 000:001;01[' ]| sturdy, and the next fat, flushed, ginger and tall, and the next dark, thin, yellow, and 000:001;01[' ]| small, and the next fair, pale, sturdy and middle-sized, and the next dark, flushed, 000:001;01[' ]| small and fat, and the next thin, fair, yellow and middle-sized, and the next pale, 000:001;01[' ]| sturdy, ginger and tall, and the next flushed, fair, fat and middle-sized, and the next 000:001;01[' ]| yellow, ginger, tall and thin, and the next sturdy, small, pale and dark, and the next 000:001;01[' ]| tall, fat, yellow, and fair, and the next small, pale, thin and ginger, and the next 000:001;01[' ]| middle-sized, flushed, dark and sturdy, and the next fat, small, ginger and yellow, 000:001;01[' ]| and the next middle-sized, 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| thin, dark and pale, and the next tall, fair, sturdy and flushed, and the next middle-sized, 000:001;01[' ]| dark, yellow and fat, and the next thin, pale, tall and fair, and the next ginger, sturdy, 000:001;01[' ]| small and flushed, and the next dark, tall, fat and yellow, and the next fair, small, pale 000:001;01[' ]| and thin, and the next sturdy, ginger, middle-sized and flushed, and the next yellow, fat, 000:001;01[' ]| small and fair, and the next pale, middle-sized, thin and ginger, and the next flushed, 000:001;01[' ]| tall, dark and sturdy, and the next fat, yellow, ginger and middle-sized, and the next 000:001;01[' ]| dark, thin, pale and tall, and the next fair, flushed, sturdy and small, and the next ginger, 000:001;01[' ]| yellow, tall and fat, and the next thin, dark, pale and small, and the next flushed, sturdy, 000:001;01[' ]| fair and middle-sized, and the next yellow, dark, fat and small, and the next pale, fair, 000:001;01[' ]| middle-sized and thin, and the next sturdy, tall, flushed and ginger, and the next 000:001;01[' ]| middle-sized, fat, yellow and fair, and the next tall, pale, thin and ginger, and the next 000:001;01[' ]| small, flushed, dark and sturdy, and the next fat, tall, fair and pale, and the next small, 000:001;01[' ]| thin, ginger and flushed, and the next middle-sized, dark, sturdy and yellow, and the 000:001;01[' ]| next small, ginger, pale and fat, and the next thin, flushed, middle-sized and dark, and 000:001;01[' ]| the next fair, sturdy, tall and yellow, and the next dark, middle-sized, fat and pale, and 000:001;01[' ]| the next fair, tall, flushed and thin, and the next sturdy, ginger, small and yellow, and the 000:001;01[' ]| next flushed, fat, tall and fair, and the next yellow, small, thin and ginger, and the next 000:001;01[' ]| pale, middle-sized, dark and sturdy, and the next fat, flushed, ginger and small, and the 000:001;01[' ]| next dark, thin, yellow and middle-sized, and the next fair, pale, sturdy and tall, and the 000:001;01[' ]| next dark, flushed, middle-sized and fat, and the next thin, fair, yellow and tall, and the 000:001;01[' ]| next pale, sturdy, ginger and small, and the next flushed, dark, fat and tall, and the next 000:001;01[' ]| yellow, fair, small and thin, and the next sturdy, middle-sized, pale and ginger, and the 000:001;01[' ]| next small, fat, flushed and 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| fair, and the next middle-sized, yellow, thin and ginger, and the next tall, pale, dark 000:001;01[' ]| and sturdy, and the next fat, middle-sized, ginger and flushed, and the next tall, thin, 000:001;01[' ]| dark and yellow, and the next small, fair, sturdy and pale, or so it seemed to$4$ Watt, to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| mention only the figure, stature, skin and hair. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| For daily changed, as well as these, in carriage, expression, shape and size, the feet, 000:001;01[' ]| the legs, the hands, the arms, the mouth, the nose, the eyes, the ears, to$9$ mention only 000:001;01[' ]| the feet, the legs, the hands, the arms, the mouth, the nose, the eyes, the ears, and 000:001;01[' ]| their carriage, expression, shape and size. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| For the port, the voice, the smell, the hairdress, were seldom the same, from one day 000:001;01[' ]| to$4$ the next, to$9$ mention only the port, the voice, the smell, the hairdress. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| For the way of hawking, the way of spitting, were subject to$4$ daily fluctuation, to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| consider only the way of hawking, and of spitting. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| For the belch was never the same, two days running, to$9$ go no further than the belch. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt had no hand in these transformations, and did not know at what hour of the 000:001;01[' ]| twenty-four they were carried out. He suspected, however, that they were carried out 000:001;01[' ]| between the hours of midnight, when Watt ended his day by helping Mr. Knott into 000:001;01[' ]| his nightdress, <1> and then into 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| <1 For the guidance of the attentive reader, at a loss to$9$ understand how these> 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| bed, and eight in the morning, when Watt began his day by helping Mr. Knott out of 000:001;01[' ]| his bed, and then out of his nightdress. For if Mr. Knott had modified his appearance 000:001;01[' ]| during Watt's hours of attendance, then it was unlikely that he could have$1$ done so 000:001;01[' ]| without attracting Watt's attention, if not at the time, at least in the hours following. 000:001;01[' ]| So Watt suspected that it was in the depths of the night, when the risk of disturbance 000:001;01[' ]| was small, that Mr. Knott organized his exterior for the day to$9$ come. And what went 000:001;01[' ]| far to$9$ strengthen this suspicion in the heart of Watt was this, that when sometimes, in 000:001;01[' ]| the small hours of the morning, unable or unwilling to$9$ sleep he rose and went to$4$ the 000:001;01[' ]| window, to$9$ look at the stars, which he had once known familiarly by name, when 000:001;01[' ]| dying in London, and breathe the night air, and listen to$4$ the night sounds, of which 000:001;01[' ]| he was still extremely curious, he sometimes saw, between him and the ground, 000:001;01[' ]| lightening the darkness, greyening the leaves and, in wet weather, tinseling the rain, 000:001;01[' ]| a fascia of white light. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| None of Mr. Knott's gestures could be$1$ called characteristic, unless perhaps that 000:001;01[' ]| which consisted in the simultaneous obturation of the facial cavities, the thumbs in 000:001;01[' ]| the mouth, the forefingers in the cars, the little fingers in the nostrils, the third 000:001;01[' ]| fingers in the eyes and the second fingers, free in a crisis to$9$ promote intellection, laid 000:001;01[' ]| along the temples. And this was less a gesture than a attitude, sustained by Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Knott for long periods of time, without visible discomfort. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Other traits, other little ways, little ways of passing the little days, Watt remarked in 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Knott, and could have$1$ told if he had wished, if he had not been tired, so very 000:001;01[' ]| tired, by all he had told already, tired of adding, tired of subtracting to$4$ and from the 000:001;01[' ]| same old things the same old things. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But he could not bear that we should part, never to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| meet again (in this world), and I in ignorance of how Mr. Knott put on his boots, or 000:001;01[' ]| his shoes, or his slippers, or his boot and shoe, or his boot and slipper, or his shoe 000:001;01[' ]| and slipper, when he did so, when he did not merely put on a boot, or a shoe, or a 000:001;01[' ]| slipper. So, taking his hands from my shoulders, and laying them on my wrists, he 000:001;01[' ]| told how Mr. Knott, when he felt the time come, taking on a cunning air would 000:001;01[' ]| begin to$9$ sidle sidle up to$4$ the boots, up to$4$ the shoes, up to$4$ the boot and shoe, up to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| the boot and slipper, up to$4$ the shoe and slipper, sidle sidle little by little with a 000:001;01[' ]| artless air little by little nearer and nearer to$4$ where they lay, in the rack, till he was 000:001;01[' ]| near enough, pouncing, to$9$ secure them. And then, while he put on the one, the black 000:001;01[' ]| boot, the brown shoe, the black slipper, the brown boot, the black shoe, the brown 000:001;01[' ]| slipper, on the one foot, he held the other tight, lest it should escape, or put it in his 000:001;01[' ]| pocket, or put his foot upon it, or put it in a drawer, or put it in his mouth, till he 000:001;01[' ]| might put it on, on the other foot. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Continuing then, when he had told me this, then he loosed my hands from his 000:001;01[' ]| shoulders, and backwards through the hole went back, to$4$ his garden, and left me 000:001;01[' ]| alone, alone with only my poor eyes to$9$ follow him, this last of many times to$9$ follow 000:001;01[' ]| him, over the deep threshing shadows backwards stumbling, towards his habitation. 000:001;01[' ]| And, often he struck against the trunks of trees, and in the tangles of underwood 000:001;01[' ]| caught his foot, and fell to$4$ the ground, on his back, on his face, on his side, or into a 000:001;01[' ]| great clump of brambles, or of briars, or of thistles, or of nettles. But ever he picked 000:001;01[' ]| himself up and unmurmuring went on, towards his habitation, until I saw him no 000:001;01[' ]| more, but only the aspens. And from the hidden pavilions, his and mine, where by 000:001;01[' ]| this time dinner was preparing, the issuing smokes by the wind were blown, now far 000:001;01[' ]| apart, but now together, mingled to$9$ vanish. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| As Watt told the beginning of his story, not first, but second, so not fourth, but third, 000:001;01[' ]| now he told its end. Two, one, four, three, that was the order in which Watt told his 000:001;01[' ]| story. Heroic quatrains are not otherwise elaborated. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| As Watt came, so he went, in the night, that covers all things with its cloak, especially 000:001;01[' ]| when the weather is cloudy. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| It was summer he thought, because the air was not quite cold. As for his coming, so now 000:001;01[' ]| for his going, it seemed a kindly summer's night. And it came at the end of a day that 000:001;01[' ]| was like the other days, for Watt. For of Mr. Knott he could not speak. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| In the room, passably lit by the moon, and large numbers of stars, Mr. Knott continued, 000:001;01[' ]| apparently very much as usual, to$9$ lie, kneel, sit, stand and walk, to$9$ utter his cries, mutter 000:001;01[' ]| and be$1$ silent. And by the open window Watt sat, as his custom was in suitable weather, 000:001;01[' ]| heard dully the first night sounds, saw dully the first night lights, human and celestial. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| At ten the steps came, clearer, clearer, fainter, fainter, on the stairs, on the landing, on 000:001;01[' ]| the stairs again, and through the open door the light, from darkness slowly brightening, 000:001;01[' ]| to$4$ darkness slowly darkening, the steps of Arthur, the light of poor Arthur, little by little 000:001;01[' ]| mounting to$4$ his rest, at his habitual hour. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| At eleven the room darkened, the moon having climbed behind a tree. But the tree being 000:001;01[' ]| small, and the moon's ascension rapid, this transit was brief, and this obscuration. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| As by the steps the light, growing, dying, Watt knew that 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| it was ten, so he knew, when the room darkened, that it was eleven, or thereabouts. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But when he thought it was midnight, or thereabouts, and he had put Mr. Knott into his 000:001;01[' ]| nightdress, and then into his bed, then he went down to$4$ the kitchen, as he did every 000:001;01[' ]| night, to$9$ drink his last glass of milk, to$9$ smoke his last quarter of cigar. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But in the kitchen a strange man was sitting, in the gloaming of the expiring range, on a 000:001;01[' ]| chair. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt asked this man who, he was, and how he had got in. He felt it was his duty to$9$ do$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| this. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| My name is Micks, said the stranger. One moment I was out, and the next I was in. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| So the moment was come. Watt lifted the cork lid from his glass, and drank. The milk 000:001;01[' ]| was turning. He lit his cigar, and puffed. It was a inferior cigar. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I come from ~~, said Mr. Micks, and he described the place whence he came. I was 000:001;01[' ]| born at ~~, he said, and the site and circumstances of his ejection were unfolded. My 000:001;01[' ]| dear parents, he said, and Mr. and Mrs. Micks, heroic figures, unique in the annals of 000:001;01[' ]| cloistered fornication, filled the kitchen. He said further, At the age of fifteen, My 000:001;01[' ]| beloved wife, My beloved dog, Till at last. Happily Mr. Micks was childless. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt listened for a time, for the voice was far from unmelodious. The fricatives in 000:001;01[' ]| particular were pleasing. But as from the proscript a encountered nightsong, so it faded, 000:001;01[' ]| the voice of Micks, the pleasant voice of poor Micks, and was lost, in the soundless 000:001;01[' ]| tumult of the inner lamentation. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| When Watt had finished his milk, and smoked his cigar, until it burned his lips, he left 000:001;01[' ]| the kitchen. But in a short time he reappeared, to$4$ Micks, with in each hand a small bag, 000:001;01[' ]| that is to$9$ say$1$, two small bags in all. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt preferred, when travelling, two small bags to$4$ one 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| large bag. Indeed he preferred, when moving from place to$4$ place, two small bags, one in 000:001;01[' ]| each hand, to$4$ one small bag, now in one hand and now in the other. No bag, big or 000:001;01[' ]| small, in either hand, that of course is what he would have$1$ liked best of all, when on his 000:001;01[' ]| travels. But what then would have$1$ become of his effects, his toilet necessities and 000:001;01[' ]| change of body linen? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| One of these bags was the grousebag, already perhaps mentioned. In spite of the straps, 000:001;01[' ]| and buckles, with which it was generously provided, Watt held it by the neck, as though 000:001;01[' ]| it were a sandbag. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The other of these bags was another and similar grousebag. It also Watt held by the 000:001;01[' ]| neck, as though it were a club. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| These bags were three-quarters empty. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt wore a greatcoat, still green here and there. This coat, when last weighed by Watt, 000:001;01[' ]| weighed between fifteen and sixteen pounds, avoirdupois, or a little more than a stone. 000:001;01[' ]| Of this Watt was certain, having weighed himself on a machine, first with the coat on, 000:001;01[' ]| and then with it off, lying on the ground, at his feet. But that was a long time ago, and 000:001;01[' ]| the coat might have$1$ put on weight, since then. Or it might have$1$ lost weight. This coat 000:001;01[' ]| was of such length, that Watt's trousers, which he wore very baggy, in order to$9$ conceal 000:001;01[' ]| the shapes of his legs, were hidden by it from view. This coat was of a very respectable 000:001;01[' ]| age, as such coats go, having been bought at secondhand, for a small sum, from a 000:001;01[' ]| meritorious widow, by Watt's father, when Watt's father was a young man, and motoring 000:001;01[' ]| in its infancy, that is to$9$ say$1$ some seventy years before. This coat had not, since then, at 000:001;01[' ]| any time been washed, except imperfectly by the rain, and the snow, and the sleet, and 000:001;01[' ]| of course occasional fleeting immersion in canal water, nor dry-cleaned, nor turned, nor 000:001;01[' ]| brushed, and it was no doubt 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| to$4$ these precautions that its preservation, as a unit was due. The material of this 000:001;01[' ]| coat, though liberally scored and contunded, especially in the rear, was so thick, and 000:001;01[' ]| so strong, that it remained exempt from perforation, in the strict meaning of the 000:001;01[' ]| word, nor was its thread elsewhere exposed, than at the seat, and elbows. This coat 000:001;01[' ]| continued to$9$ button, up the front, with nine buttons, various now in shape, and 000:001;01[' ]| colour, but without exception of such exceptional size as to$9$ remain, once buttoned, 000:001;01[' ]| buttoned. Aloft in the flower-hole brooded the remains of a factitious murrey 000:001;01[' ]| chrysanthemum. Patches of velvet clung to$4$ the collar. The skirts were not divided. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt wore, on his head, a block hat, of a pepper colour. This excellent hat had 000:001;01[' ]| belonged to$4$ his grandfather, who had picked it up, on a racecourse, from off the 000:001;01[' ]| ground, where it lay, and carried it home. Then mustard, now it was pepper, in 000:001;01[' ]| colour. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| It was to$9$ be$1$ observed that the colours, on the one hand of this coat, on the other of 000:001;01[' ]| this hat, drew closer and closer, the one to$4$ the other, with every passing lustre. Yet 000:001;01[' ]| how different had been their beginnings! The one green! The other yellow! So it is 000:001;01[' ]| with time, that lightens what is dark, that darkens what is light. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| It was to$9$ be$1$ expected that, once met, they would not stay, no, but continue, each as it 000:001;01[' ]| must, to$9$ age, until the hat was green, the coat yellow, and then through the last 000:001;01[' ]| circles paling, deepening, swooning cease, the hat to$9$ be$1$ a hat, the coat to$9$ be$1$ a coat. 000:001;01[' ]| For so it is with time. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt wore, on his feet, a boot, brown in colour, and a shoe, happily of a brownish 000:001;01[' ]| colour also. This boot Watt had bought, for eightpence, from a one-legged man who, 000:001;01[' ]| having lost his leg, and a fortiori his foot, in a accident, was happy to$9$ realize, on his 000:001;01[' ]| discharge from hospital, for such a sum, his unique remaining marketable asset. He 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| little suspected that he owed this good fortune to$4$ Watt's having found, some days 000:001;01[' ]| before, on the seashore, the shoe, stiff with brine, but otherwise shipshape. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| This shoe and this boot were so close in colour, the one to$4$ the other, and so veiled, as 000:001;01[' ]| to$4$ their uppers, in the first place by the trousers, and in the second by the greatcoat, 000:001;01[' ]| that they might almost have$1$ been taken, not for a shoe on the one hand, and on the 000:001;01[' ]| other for a boot, but for a true pair of boots, or of shoes, had not the boot been blunt, 000:001;01[' ]| and the shoe sharp, at the toe. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| In this boot, a twelve, and in this shoe, a ten, Watt, whose size was eleven suffered, if 000:001;01[' ]| not agony, at least pain, with his feet, of which each would willingly have$1$ changed 000:001;01[' ]| places with the other, if only for a moment. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| By wearing, on the foot that was too small, not one sock of his Pair of socks, but 000:001;01[' ]| both, and on the foot that was too large, not the other, but none, Watt strove in vain 000:001;01[' ]| to$9$ correct this asymmetry. But logic was on his side, and he remained faithful, when 000:001;01[' ]| involved in a journey of any length, to$4$ this distribution of his socks, in preference to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| the other three. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Of Watt's coat and waistcoat, of his shirt, his vest and his drawers, much might be$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| written, of great interest and significance. The drawers, in particular, were 000:001;01[' ]| remarkable, from more than one point of view. But they were hidden, coat and 000:001;01[' ]| waistcoat, shirt and underclothes, all hidden, from the eye. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt wore no tie, nor any collar. Had he had a collar, he would no doubt have$1$ found 000:001;01[' ]| a tie, to$9$ go with it. And had he had a tie, he might perhaps have$1$ procured a collar, to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| carry it. But having neither tie, nor collar, he had neither collar, nor tie. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Thus dressed, and holding in either hand a bag, Watt stood in the kitchen, and the 000:001;01[' ]| expression on his face became 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| gradually of such vacancy that Micks, raising in amaze a astonished hand to$4$ a 000:001;01[' ]| thunderstruck mouth, recoiled to$4$ the wall, and there stood, in a crouching posture, 000:001;01[' ]| his back pressed against the wall, and the back of the one hand pressed against his 000:001;01[' ]| parted lips, and the back of the other pressed against the palm of the one. Or it may 000:001;01[' ]| have$1$ been something else that caused Micks to$9$ recoil in this way, and to$9$ crouch 000:001;01[' ]| against the wall, with his hands to$4$ his face, in this way, something other than the face 000:001;01[' ]| of Watt. For it is hard to$9$ believe that the face of Watt, dreadful and all as it was at 000:001;01[' ]| the time, was dreadful and all enough to$9$ cause a powerful lymphatic man like Micks 000:001;01[' ]| to$9$ recoil to$4$ the wall with his hands to$4$ his face, as if to$9$ ward off a blow, or press back 000:001;01[' ]| a cry, in the way he did, and to$9$ turn pale, for he turned pale, very properly. For Watt's 000:001;01[' ]| face, dreadful and all as it undoubtedly was, especially when it wore this particular 000:001;01[' ]| expression, was scarcely as dreadful and all as all that. Nor was Micks a little girl, or 000:001;01[' ]| a innocent little choir-boy, no, but a big placid man, who had seen something of the 000:001;01[' ]| world, both at home, and abroad. What may it then have$1$ been, if not Watt's face, that 000:001;01[' ]| so repelled Micks, and drained his cheeks, of their natural high colour? The 000:001;01[' ]| greatcoat? The hat? The shoe and boot? Yes, the shoe and boot perhaps, taken 000:001;01[' ]| together, so brown, so peeping, so sharp and blunt, heel to$4$ heel in obscene attention 000:001;01[' ]| splayed, and so brown, such a brown. Or was it not perhaps something that was not 000:001;01[' ]| Watt, nor of Watt, but behind Watt, or beside Watt, or before Watt, or beneath Watt, 000:001;01[' ]| or above Watt, or about Watt, a shade uncast, a light unshed, or the grey 000:001;01[' ]| air aswirl with vain entelechies? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But if Watt's mouth was open, and his jaw sunk, and his eyes glassy, and his head 000:001;01[' ]| sunk, and his knees bent, and his back bent, his mind was busy, busy wondering 000:001;01[' ]| which was best, to$9$ shut the door, from which he felt the draught, on 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| the nape, of his neck, and set down his bags, and sit down, or to$9$ shut the door, and set 000:001;01[' ]| down his bags, without sitting down, or to$9$ shut the door, and sit down, without setting 000:001;01[' ]| down his bags, or to$9$ set down his bags, and sit down, without shutting the door, or to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| shut the door, from which he felt the blast, on the nape, of his neck, without setting 000:001;01[' ]| down his bags, or sitting down, or to$9$ set down his bags, without bothering to$9$ shut the 000:001;01[' ]| door, or sit down, or to$9$ sit down, without troubling to$9$ set down his bags, or shut the 000:001;01[' ]| door, or to$9$ leave things as they were, the bags pulling at his hands, the floor pushing at 000:001;01[' ]| his feet, and the air puffing, through the door, on the nape, of his neck. And the 000:001;01[' ]| conclusion of Watt's reflexions was this, that if one of these things was worth doing, all 000:001;01[' ]| were worth doing, but that none was worth doing, no, not one, but that all were 000:001;01[' ]| unadvisable, without exception. For he would not have$1$ time to$9$ rest, and grow warm. For 000:001;01[' ]| the sitting down was a standing up again, and the load laid down another load to$9$ raise, 000:001;01[' ]| and the door shut another door to$9$ open, so hard upon the last, so soon before the next, as 000:001;01[' ]| to$9$ prove, very likely, in the long run, more fatiguing, than refreshing. And he said also, 000:001;01[' ]| by way of a rider, that even if he had the whole night before him, in which to$9$ rest, and 000:001;01[' ]| grow warm, on a chair, in the kitchen, even then it would be$1$ a poor resting, and a mean 000:001;01[' ]| warming, beside the rest and warmth that he remembered, the rest and warmth that he 000:001;01[' ]| awaited. a very poor resting indeed, and a paltry warming, and so in any case very likely 000:001;01[' ]| a source, in the long run, less of gratification, than of annoyance. But his fatigue was so 000:001;01[' ]| great, at the end of this long day, and his bedtime so long past, and the desire for rest so 000:001;01[' ]| strong in consequence, and the desire for warmth, that he stooped, very likely with the 000:001;01[' ]| intention of setting down his bags, on the floor, and of shutting the door, and of sitting 000:001;01[' ]| down at the table, and of putting his arms on the 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| table, and of burying yes of burying his head in his arms, and who knows perhaps 000:001;01[' ]| even of falling, after a moment or two, into a uneasy sleep, lacerated by dreams, by 000:001;01[' ]| dives from dreadful heights into rocky waters, before a numerous public. So he 000:001;01[' ]| stooped, but he did not stoop far, for hardly had the stoop begun, when it ended, and 000:001;01[' ]| hardly had he initiated his programme of repose, of uneasy repose, when he checked 000:001;01[' ]| it, and remained fixed, in a aggravation of his semi-upright station, a station so 000:001;01[' ]| lamentable that he remarked it, and would have$1$ smiled, if he had not been too weak 000:001;01[' ]| to$9$ smile, or laughed outright, if he had been strong enough to$9$ laugh outright. 000:001;01[' ]| Inwardly he was diverted, to$9$ be$1$ sure, and for a instant his mind turned off from 000:001;01[' ]| care, but less than if he had had the force to$9$ smile, or outright to$9$ laugh. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| In the avenue, somewhere between the house and the road, Watt recalled, with 000:001;01[' ]| regret, that he had not taken leave of Micks, as he should have$1$ done. The few simple 000:001;01[' ]| words at parting, that mean so much, to$4$ him who stays, to$4$ him who goes, he had not 000:001;01[' ]| had the common courtesy to$9$ speak them, before leaving the house. a inclination to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| retrace his steps, and repair this churlishness, caused him to$9$ halt. But he did not halt 000:001;01[' ]| long, but continued on his way, towards the gate, and the road. And he did well, for 000:001;01[' ]| Micks had left the kitchen before Watt. But Watt, not knowing this, that Micks had 000:001;01[' ]| left the kitchen before him, for he only realized it much later, when it was too late, 000:001;01[' ]| felt regret, as he passed on his way, towards the gate, and the road, that he had not 000:001;01[' ]| taken leave of Micks, however briefly. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The night was of unusual splendour. The moon, if not full, was not far from full, in a 000:001;01[' ]| day or two it would be$1$ full, and then dwindle, until its appearance, in the heavens, 000:001;01[' ]| would be$1$ that compared, by some writers, to$4$ a sickle, or a crescent. The remaining 000:001;01[' ]| heavenly bodies also, though 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| situated for the most part at a great distance, poured down on Watt, and on the 000:001;01[' ]| hortulan beauties through which he moved, with regret, in his heart, for his neglect of 000:001;01[' ]| Micks, to$4$ Watt's disgust a light so strong, so pure, so steady and so white, that his 000:001;01[' ]| progress, though painful, and uncertain, was less painful, less uncertain, than he had 000:001;01[' ]| apprehended, when setting out. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt was always lucky with his weather. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| He walked on the grass edging, because he did not like the feel of gravel under his 000:001;01[' ]| feet, and the flowers, and the long grasses, and the boughs, both of shrubs and of 000:001;01[' ]| trees, brushed against him in a way that he did not find unpleasant. The lapping, 000:001;01[' ]| against the crown, of his hat, of some pendulous umbel, perhaps a horn's, gave him 000:001;01[' ]| peculiar satisfaction, and he had not gone far, from the place, when he turned, and 000:001;01[' ]| returned, to$4$ the place, and stood, beneath the bough, attentive to$4$ the drag, to$8$ and fro, 000:001;01[' ]| to$8$ and fro, of the tassels, on the crown, of his hat. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| He remarked that there was no wind, not a breath. And yet in the kitchen he had felt 000:001;01[' ]| the cold air on the nape, of his neck. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| He was overtaken, in the road, by the passing weakness already mentioned. But it 000:001;01[' ]| passed, and he pursued his way, towards the railway-station. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| He walked in the middle of the road, because of the freestone, with which the path 000:001;01[' ]| was strewn. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| He met no human being, on his way. A strayed ass, or goat, lying in the ditch, in the 000:001;01[' ]| shadow, raised its head, as he passed. Watt did not see the ass, or goat, but the ass, or 000:001;01[' ]| goat, saw Watt. And it followed him with its eyes while he passed, little by little, 000:001;01[' ]| down the road, out of sight. Perhaps it thought that in the bags there was something 000:001;01[' ]| good to$9$ eat. When it could see the bags no more, then it laid back its head, among 000:001;01[' ]| the nettles. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| When Watt reached the railway-station, it was shut. It had indeed been shut for some 000:001;01[' ]| time, before Watt reached it, and it was so still, when he did. For the time was now 000:001;01[' ]| perhaps between one and two o'clock, in the morning, and the last train to$9$ call at this 000:001;01[' ]| railway-station, at night, and the first to$9$ call, in the morning, called, the one between 000:001;01[' ]| eleven and twelve o'clock, at night, and the other between five and six o'clock, in the 000:001;01[' ]| morning. So this particular railway-station closed, at latest, at twelve o'clock, at 000:001;01[' ]| night, and never opened before five o'clock, in the morning. And as the time was 000:001;01[' ]| now probably between one and two o'clock, in the morning, the railway-station was 000:001;01[' ]| shut. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt climbed the stone steps and stood before the wicket, looking through its bars. 000:001;01[' ]| He admired the permanent way, stretching away on either hand, in the moonlight, 000:001;01[' ]| and the starlight, as far as the eye could reach, as far as Watt's eye could have$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| reached, if it had been inside the station. He contemplated with wonder also the 000:001;01[' ]| ample recession of the plain, its flow so free and simple to$4$ the mountains, the 000:001;01[' ]| crumpled umbers of its verge. His eyes then rising with the rising land fell ultimately 000:001;01[' ]| on the mirrored sky, its coal-sacks, its setting constellations, and on the eyes, 000:001;01[' ]| ripple-blurred, staring from amidst the waters. Finally suddenly he focused the wicket. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt climbed the wicket and found himself on the platform, with his bags. For he 000:001;01[' ]| had the foresight, before climbing the wicket, to$9$ hoist his bags over the wicket and 000:001;01[' ]| let them fall, to$4$ the ground, on the other side. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt's first care, now that he was safe and sound, with his bags, within the station, 000:001;01[' ]| was to$9$ turn, and to$9$ gaze, through the wicket, the way back he had come, so recently. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Of the many touching prospects thus offered to$4$ his inspection, none touched him 000:001;01[' ]| more than the highway, 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| now whiter somehow than by day, and of a fairer onrush, between its hedges, and its 000:001;01[' ]| ditches. This highway, after a unbroken course of considerable length, dipped 000:001;01[' ]| suddenly, and was lost to$9$ view, in a deplorable confusion of vertical vegetation. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The chimneys of Mr. Knott's house were not visible, in spite of the excellent visibility. 000:001;01[' ]| On fine days they could be$1$ discerned, from the station. But on fine nights apparently not. 000:001;01[' ]| For Watt's eyes, when he put himself out, were no worse than another's, even at this 000:001;01[' ]| time, and the night was exceptionally fine, even for this part of the country, reputed for 000:001;01[' ]| the fineness of its nights. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt had always great luck with his weather. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt was beginning to$9$ tire of running his eyes up and down this highway, when a figure, 000:001;01[' ]| human apparently, advancing along its crown, arrested, and revived, his attention. Watt's 000:001;01[' ]| first thought was that this creature had risen up out of the ground, or fallen from the sky. 000:001;01[' ]| And his second, some fifteen or twenty minutes later, that it had perhaps gained its 000:001;01[' ]| present position by way of first a hedge, and then a ditch. Watt was unable to$9$ say$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| whether this figure was that of a man, or that of a woman, or that of a priest, or that of a 000:001;01[' ]| nun. That it was not that of a boy, nor that of a girl, was shown, in Watt's opinion, by its 000:001;01[' ]| dimensions. But to$9$ decide whether it was that of a man, or that of a woman, or that of a 000:001;01[' ]| priest, or that of a nun, was more than Watt could do$1$, strain as he might his eyes. If it 000:001;01[' ]| was that of a woman, or that of a nun, it was that of a woman, or that of a nun, of 000:001;01[' ]| unusual size, even for this part of the country, remarkable for the unusual size of its 000:001;01[' ]| women, and its nuns. But Watt knew too well, too too well, of what dimensions certain 000:001;01[' ]| women, and certain nuns, were capable, to$9$ conclude, from those of this night-wanderer, 000:001;01[' ]| that this night-wanderer was not a woman, nor a nun, but a man, or a 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| priest. As for the clothes, their testimony was of no more assistance, at that distance, 000:001;01[' ]| and in that light, than if they had consisted of a sheet, or a sack, or a quilt, or a rug. 000:001;01[' ]| For from head to$4$ foot extended, as far as Watt could see, and his eyes were as good 000:001;01[' ]| as the next man's, even at this stage, when he gave himself the trouble to$9$ focus them, 000:001;01[' ]| the uninterrupted surfaces of a single garment, while on the head there sat, asexual, 000:001;01[' ]| the likeness of a depressed inverted chamber-pot, yellow with age, to$9$ put it politely. 000:001;01[' ]| If the figure was indeed that of a woman, or that of a nun, of unusual size, it was that 000:001;01[' ]| of a woman, or that of a nun, of unusual size of uncommon inelegance. But the giant 000:001;01[' ]| woman was often dowdy, in Watt's experience, and the giant nun not less so. The 000:001;01[' ]| arms did not end at the hands, but continued, in a manner that Watt could not 000:001;01[' ]| determine, to$4$ near the ground. The feet, following each other in rapid and impetuous 000:001;01[' ]| succession, were flung, the right foot to$4$ the right, the left foot to$4$ the left, as much 000:001;01[' ]| outwards as forwards, with the result that, for every stride of say three feet in 000:001;01[' ]| compass, the ground gained did not exceed one. This gave to$4$ the gait a kind of 000:001;01[' ]| shackled smartness, most painful to$9$ witness. Watt felt them suddenly glow in the 000:001;01[' ]| dark place, and go out, the words, The only cure is diet. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt waited, with impatience, for this man, if it was a man, or for this woman, if it 000:001;01[' ]| was a woman, or for this priest, if it was a priest, or for this nun, if it was a nun, to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| draw near, and set his mind at rest. He did not desire conversation, he did not desire 000:001;01[' ]| company, he did not desire consolation, he felt no wish for a erection, no, all he 000:001;01[' ]| de-sired was to$9$ have$1$ his uncertainty removed, in this connexion. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| He did not know why he cared, what it was, coming along the road. He did not know 000:001;01[' ]| whether shit was a good thing, or a bad thing. It seemed to$4$ him that, quite apart 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| from any question of personal feeling of grief or satisfaction, it was greatly to$9$ be$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| deplored, that he cared what it was, coming along the road, profoundly to$9$ be$1$ deplored. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| He realized that he could not be$1$ content with the figure's drawing merely near, no, but 000:001;01[' ]| that the figure must draw very near, very near indeed. For if the figure drew merely near, 000:001;01[' ]| and not very near indeed, how should he know, if it was a man, that it was not a woman, 000:001;01[' ]| or a priest, or a nun, dressed up as a man? Or, if it was a woman, that it was not a man, 000:001;01[' ]| or a priest, or a nun, dressed up as a woman? Or, if it was a priest, that it was not a man, 000:001;01[' ]| or a woman, or a nun, dressed up as a priest? Or, if it was a nun, that it was not a man, or 000:001;01[' ]| a woman, or a priest, dressed up as a nun? So Watt waited, with impatience, for the 000:001;01[' ]| figure to$9$ draw very near indeed. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Then, as Watt still waited for the figure to$9$ draw very near indeed, he realized that it was 000:001;01[' ]| not necessary, not at all necessary, that the figure should draw very near indeed, but that 000:001;01[' ]| a moderate proximation would be$1$ more than sufficient. For Watt's concern, deep as it 000:001;01[' ]| appeared, was not after all with what the figure was, in reality, but with what the figure 000:001;01[' ]| appeared to$9$ be$1$, in reality. For since when were Watt's concerns with what things were, 000:001;01[' ]| in reality? But he was for ever falling into this old error, this error of the old days when, 000:001;01[' ]| lacerated with curiosity, in the midst of substance shadowy he stumbled. This was very 000:001;01[' ]| mortifying, to$4$ Watt. So Watt waited, with impatience, for the figure to$9$ draw near. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| He waited and waited, his hands curled round the bars, of the wicket. so that his nails 000:001;01[' ]| pricked his palms, his bags at his feet, staring through the bars, staring at this 000:001;01[' ]| incomprehensible staffage, suffering greatly from impatience. His agitation became 000:001;01[' ]| finally so great, that he shook the wicket, with all his might. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| What so agitated Watt was this , that in the ten minutes or half a hour that had 000:001;01[' ]| elapsed, since he first became aware of this figure, striding along, on the crest of the 000:001;01[' ]| road, towards the station, the figure had gained nothing in height, in breadth or in 000:001;01[' ]| distinctness. Pressing forward all this time, with no abatement of its foundered 000:001;01[' ]| precipitation, towards the station, it had made no more headway, than if it had been a 000:001;01[' ]| millstone. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt was puzzling over this, when the figure, without any interruption of its motions, 000:001;01[' ]| grew fainter and fainter, and finally disappeared. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt seemed to$9$ regard, for some obscure reason, this particular hallucination as 000:001;01[' ]| possessing exceptional interest. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt picked up his bags and advanced, round the corner of a wall, on to$4$ the platform. 000:001;01[' ]| A light was burning in the signal-box. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The signal-man, a elderly man of the name of Case, was waiting in his box, as he 000:001;01[' ]| did every night, with the exception of the night from Sunday to$4$ Monday (strange), 000:001;01[' ]| for the upgoing express to$9$ go up safely, through the station. Then he would set his 000:001;01[' ]| signals and go home, to$4$ his lonely wife, leaving the station deserted. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| To$9$ while away the time, and at the same time improve his mind, Mr. Case was 000:001;01[' ]| reading a book: Songs by the Way, by George Russell (A.E.). Mr. Case, his head 000:001;01[' ]| flung back, held this book out at arm's length. Mr. Case had a very superior taste in 000:001;01[' ]| books, for a signal-man. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Case read: 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Case's heavy moustache followed the movements of his lip, as it espoused, now 000:001;01[' ]| pouting, now revulsed, the various sonorities of which these words were composed. 000:001;01[' ]| His nose too responded, with its bulb and nostrils. The pipe moved up and down, and 000:001;01[' ]| from the corner of the mouth 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| the spittle fell, unheeded, on the waistcoat, which was of corduroy. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt stood in the cabin as he had stood in the kitchen, his bags in his hands, his open 000:001;01[' ]| eyes at rest, and the door open behind him. Mr. Case had once caught, through the 000:001;01[' ]| windows, of his box, a glimpse of Watt, on the evening of his arrival. So he was 000:001;01[' ]| familiar with his appearance. This stood him now in good stead. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Could you tell me what time it was, said Watt. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| It was as he feared, earlier than he hoped. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Could I be$1$ admitted to$4$ a waiting-room, said Watt. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Here was a teaser, to$9$ be$1$ sure. For Mr. Case might not leave his box, until he left it to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| go home, to$4$ his anxious wife. Nor was it possible, detaching the key from the bunch, 000:001;01[' ]| to$9$ hand it to$4$ Watt, saying, Here, sir, is the key of our waiting-room, I shall call for it 000:001;01[' ]| on my way home. No. For the waiting-room opened off the booking-office, in such a 000:001;01[' ]| way, that to$9$ reach the waiting-room it was necessary to$9$ pass through the 000:001;01[' ]| booking-office. And the key of the door of the waiting-room did not open the door of 000:001;01[' ]| the booking-office. Nor was it possible, slipping the two keys off the ring, to$9$ hand 000:001;01[' ]| them to$4$ Watt, saying, Here, sir, is the key of our waiting-room door, and here that of 000:001;01[' ]| our booking-office door, I shall call for them on my way out. No. For the 000:001;01[' ]| booking-office communicated with the station-master's sanctum, in such a way, that 000:001;01[' ]| to$9$ reach the station-master's sanctum it was only necessary to$9$ traverse the 000:001;01[' ]| booking-office. And the key of the door of the booking-office opened the door of the 000:001;01[' ]| station-master's sanctum, in such sort, that these two doors were represented, on each 000:001;01[' ]| bunch of station keys, on Mr. Gorman's the station-master's bunch, on Mr. Case's the 000:001;01[' ]| signal-man's bunch, and on Mr. Nolan's the porter's bunch, not by two keys, but by 000:001;01[' ]| one key only. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| In this way a economy of no fewer than three keys was 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| realized, and it was Mr. Gorman's the station-master's intention to$9$ reduce still further 000:001;01[' ]| the number of station keys by having fitted, at no distant date, and at the company's 000:001;01[' ]| expense, to$4$ the door of the waiting-room a lock identical with the now identical 000:001;01[' ]| locks of the doors of the booking-office and of his private sanctum. This design he 000:001;01[' ]| had communicated, in the course of a recent conference, both to$4$ Mr. Case and to$4$ Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Nolan, and neither Mr. Case nor Mr. Nolan had any objections to$9$ offer. But what he 000:001;01[' ]| had not confided, either to$4$ Mr. Case or to$4$ Mr. Nolan, was his determination to$9$ have$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| fitted, in the near future, little by little, at the company's expense, to$4$ the wicket and 000:001;01[' ]| to$4$ the doors of the signal-box, of the porters' restroom, of the luggage-office and of 000:001;01[' ]| the ladies' and gentlemen's lavatories, locks so contrived that the key which now 000:001;01[' ]| opened, with such perfect ease, the door of the booking-office, and the door of the 000:001;01[' ]| station-master's sanctum, and which so soon would open, without the least difficulty, 000:001;01[' ]| the door of the waiting-room, would open all those other doors also, one after the 000:001;01[' ]| other, in the fulness of time. So he would leave, at his retirement, if he did not die 000:001;01[' ]| before, or on his death, if he did not retire first, a station unique, in this respect, if not 000:001;01[' ]| in any other, among the stations of the line. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The keys of the till, which Mr. Gorman carried, the one on his watch-chain, lest his 000:001;01[' ]| trouser's pocket should develop a hole, as trouser's pockets are so apt to$9$ do$1$, or the 000:001;01[' ]| key, which was minute, be drawn forth with the small change, and lost, and the 000:001;01[' ]| other, lest his watch-chain should be$1$ lost, or stolen from him, in his trouser's pocket, 000:001;01[' ]| these little keys Mr. Gorman did not number among the station keys. And indeed the 000:001;01[' ]| keys of the till were not properly speaking station keys at all. For the station till, 000:001;01[' ]| unlike the station doors, did not remain in the station, all day, and all night, but left 000:001;01[' ]| the station with Mr. Gorman, when he 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| went home in the evening, and did not return until the following morning, when Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Gorman returned to$4$ the station. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Case considered all this, or such parts as he deemed germane, weighing the for, and 000:001;01[' ]| weighing the against, without passion. He came finally to$4$ the conclusion that he could 000:001;01[' ]| do$1$ nothing, for the moment. When the express-train had come, and gone, and he was 000:001;01[' ]| free to$9$ go home, to$4$ his unquiet wife, then he could do$1$ something, then he could admit 000:001;01[' ]| Watt to$4$ the waiting-room, and leave him there. But he had no sooner come to$4$ the 000:001;01[' ]| conclusion that he could do$1$ this, in order to$9$ oblige Watt, when he saw that he could do$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| so only on condition that he locked the door of the booking-office, behind him. For he 000:001;01[' ]| could not go away, leaving the door of the booking-office open, in the sleeping station. 000:001;01[' ]| But on this condition, that Watt submitted to$9$ be$1$ locked into the booking-office, he could 000:001;01[' ]| oblige Watt, once the express-train had come, and gone. But he had hardly decided that 000:001;01[' ]| it would be$1$ possible for him to$9$ oblige Watt, on this condition, when he realized that, 000:001;01[' ]| even on this condition, it would not be$1$ possible for him to$9$ oblige Watt, unless Watt 000:001;01[' ]| consented to$4$ being locked, not only into the booking-office, but into the waiting-room 000:001;01[' ]| also. For it was out of the question that Watt should have$1$ free access, all night long, in 000:001;01[' ]| the sleeping station, to$4$ the station-master's sanctum's antechamber. But if he had no 000:001;01[' ]| objection to$4$ being locked, till morning, not only into the booking-office, but into the 000:001;01[' ]| waiting-room also, then Mr. Case saw really no reason why the waiting-room should not 000:001;01[' ]| be$1$ placed at his disposal, as soon as the express-train had passed safely by, with its 000:001;01[' ]| passengers, and valuable freight. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Case now informed Watt of what he had settled, in his mind, with reference to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| Watt's request, that he should be$1$ admitted to$4$ the public waiting-room. The reasons that 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| had led Mr. Case to$9$ settle this, in his mind, rather than something else, Mr. Case had 000:001;01[' ]| the delicacy to$9$ keep to$4$ himself, as being more likely to$9$ cause Watt pain, than to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| cause him pleasure. In the morning, said Mr. Case, as soon as Mr. Gorman, or Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Nolan arrives, you will be$1$ let out, and free to$9$ come and go, as you please. Watt 000:001;01[' ]| replied that that would indeed be$1$ something to$9$ look forward to$5$, and a comfort to$4$ him 000:001;01[' ]| during the night, the prospect of being enlarged, in the morning, by Mr. Gorman, or 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Nolan, and made free to$9$ come and go, as he listed. If in the meantime, said Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Case, you care to$9$ come in, to$4$ the box, and shut the door, and take a chair, I should be$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| happy to$9$ have$1$ you. Watt replied that it would be$1$ better if he waited outside. He 000:001;01[' ]| would be$1$ on the platform, walking up and down, or sitting on a seat. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt lay on the seat, on his back, with his bags under his head, and his hat over his 000:001;01[' ]| face. Thus the moon was in a measure kept off, and the lesser beauties of this 000:001;01[' ]| glorious night. The problem of vision, as far as Watt was concerned, admitted of 000:001;01[' ]| only one solution: the eye open in the dark. The results given by the closed eye were, 000:001;01[' ]| in Watt's opinion, most unsatisfactory. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt first considered the matter of the express-train, so soon due to$9$ thunder, with 000:001;01[' ]| irresistible impetus, through the sleeping station. He gave very full and close 000:001;01[' ]| attention to$4$ this matter. Finally suddenly he ceased, as suddenly as he had begun, to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| think. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| He lay on the seat, without thought or sensation, except for a slight feeling of chill in 000:001;01[' ]| one foot. In his skull the voices whispering their canon were like a patter of mice, a 000:001;01[' ]| flurry of little grey paws in the dust. This was very likely a sensation also, strictly 000:001;01[' ]| speaking. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Case was obliged to$9$ explain his insistence. But a few words were sufficient. A 000:001;01[' ]| few words from Mr. Case, and 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| all came back to$4$ Watt. Mr. Case carried a storm-lantern in his hand. From it issued a 000:001;01[' ]| yellow beam, of extraordinary debility. Mr. Case spoke of the train, with 000:001;01[' ]| professional pride. It had left on time, it had passed on time, and it would arrive, at 000:001;01[' ]| its destination, if nothing supervened to$9$ delay it, on time. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Here then was the explanation of the recent external commotion. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| It was now fully two hours since Watt had passed water. And yet he felt no need, 000:001;01[' ]| nay, no desire, to$9$ pass water. Not the least drop, or globule, of water could I pass, he 000:001;01[' ]| reflected, good, bad or indifferent, if I were paid not to$9$ do$1$ so. He who hourly passed 000:001;01[' ]| a urgent water, a delicious water, in the ordinary way. This last regular link with the 000:001;01[' ]| screen, for he did not count as such his weekly stool, nor biannual equinoctial 000:001;01[' ]| nocturnal emission in vacuo, he now envisaged its relaxation, and eventual rupture, 000:001;01[' ]| with sadness, and gladness, distinctly perceptible in a alternation of great rapidity, 000:001;01[' ]| for some little time, and dying blurred together away, in due course. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt stood on the floor, with his bags in his hands, and the floor was like stone under 000:001;01[' ]| his feet, and his faithful body did not fall, his relentless body, suddenly on its knees, 000:001;01[' ]| or on its coccyx, and then forward on his face, or backward on its back, no, but it 000:001;01[' ]| preserved its balance, in a way not unlike the way that its mother had taught, and the 000:001;01[' ]| conformism of youth confirmed. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Faintlier, faintlier came the footfalls to$4$ his ear, until of all the faint sounds that came, 000:001;01[' ]| by the abandoned air, to$4$ his ear, not one was a footfall, as far as he could judge. This 000:001;01[' ]| was a music of which he was particularly fond, the parted quiet closing like a groom, 000:001;01[' ]| behind departing footfalls, or other disturbances. But Mr. Case's way brought him 000:001;01[' ]| behind the station, and his footfalls came again, four or five, a 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| little wale of stealth, to$4$ Watt's ears, which stuck out wide on either side of his head, like 000:001;01[' ]| a 's. Before long they would come to$4$ Mrs. Case, to$4$ her$2$ ears weary of the stepless 000:001;01[' ]| murmurs, stronger and stronger, till they reached the grass. Few sounds, if any, gave 000:001;01[' ]| Mrs. Case more satisfaction than these. She was a strange woman. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Part of the waiting-room was faintly lit, by light from without. The passage from this 000:001;01[' ]| part to$4$ the other was more abrupt, now that Watt had ceased to$9$ listen, than he would 000:001;01[' ]| have$1$ believed possible, if he had not seen it, with his own eyes. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The waiting-room was empty of furniture, or other objects, as far as Watt could see. 000:001;01[' ]| Unless there was something behind him. This did not strike him as strange. Nor did it 000:001;01[' ]| strike him as usual. For his impression was, such as it was, as he drooped sigmoidal in 000:001;01[' ]| its midst, that this was a waiting-room of which even the nicest degrees of strange and 000:001;01[' ]| usual could not be$1$ affirmed, with propriety. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Whispering it told, the mouth, a woman's, the thin lips sticking and unsticking, how 000:001;01[' ]| when empty they could accommodate a larger public than when encumbered with 000:001;01[' ]| armchairs and divans, and how it was vain to$9$ sit, vain to$9$ lie, when without the rain beat 000:001;01[' ]| down, or the sleet, or the snow, with or without wind, or the sun, with greater or lesser 000:001;01[' ]| perpendicularity. This woman's name had been Price, her$2$ person was of a extreme 000:001;01[' ]| spareness, and some thirty-five years earlier she had shot, with colours flying, the 000:001;01[' ]| narrows of the menopause. Watt was not displeased to$9$ hear her$2$ voice again, to$9$ watch 000:001;01[' ]| again the play of the pale bows of mucus. He was not displeased either when it went 000:001;01[' ]| away. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The waiting-room was now less empty than Watt had at first supposed, to$9$ judge by the 000:001;01[' ]| presence, some two paces to$4$ Watt's fore, and as many to$4$ his right, of what seemed to$9$ be$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| a object of some importance. Watt could not tell what 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| this was, though he went so far as to$9$ advance his head, not without torsion of the 000:001;01[' ]| neck, in its direction. It was not part of the ceiling, nor of a wall, nor, though it 000:001;01[' ]| seemed in contact with the floor, of the floor, that was all that Watt could affirm, of 000:001;01[' ]| this object, and even that little he affirmed with reserve. But that little was enough, 000:001;01[' ]| for Watt the possibility was enough, more than enough, that something other than he, 000:001;01[' ]| in this box, was not intrinsic to$4$ its limits. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| A smell exceptionally foul, and yet at the same time in some way familiar, made 000:001;01[' ]| Watt wonder if there were not hidden, beneath the boards, at his feet, the decaying 000:001;01[' ]| carcass of some small animal, such as a dog, a cat, a rat, or a mouse. For the floor, 000:001;01[' ]| though it felt to$4$ Watt like stone, was in reality contabulated, all over. This smell was 000:001;01[' ]| of such virulence that Watt was almost obliged to$9$ put down his bags and draw forth 000:001;01[' ]| his pocket-handkerchief, or, more exactly, his roll of toilet-paper, from his pocket. 000:001;01[' ]| For Watt, in order to$9$ save himself the washing, and no doubt also for the pleasure of 000:001;01[' ]| killing two birds with one stone, never blew his nose, except when the circumstances 000:001;01[' ]| permitted of a direct digital emunction, in anything but toilet-paper, each separate 000:001;01[' ]| slip, when thoroughly imbibed, being crumpled up into a ball, and thrown away, and 000:001;01[' ]| the hands passed through the hair, to$4$ its great embellishment, or rubbed the one 000:001;01[' ]| against the other, until they shone. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| This smell however was not what Watt had at first supposed, but something quite 000:001;01[' ]| different, for it grew weaker and weaker, as it would not have$1$ done, if it had been 000:001;01[' ]| what Watt had at first supposed, and finally ceased, altogether. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But in a short time it returned, the same smell exactly, dilated and passed off as 000:001;01[' ]| before. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| In this way it came and went, for some hours. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| There was something about this smell that Watt could not help but like. Yet he was 000:001;01[' ]| not sorry, when it went. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| In the waiting-room the darkness gradually deepened. There was no longer a dark 000:001;01[' ]| part and a less dark part, no, but all now was uniformly dark, and remained so, for 000:001;01[' ]| some time. This notable change took place by insensible degrees. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| When the waiting-room had been quite dark, for some time, then in the waiting-room 000:001;01[' ]| the darkness slowly lightened, throughout, by infinitesimal stages, and continued to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| do$1$ so, at the same rate, until every part of the waiting-room was faintly visible, to$4$ the 000:001;01[' ]| dilated eye. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt saw now that his companion all this time had been a chair. Its back was turned 000:001;01[' ]| towards him. Little by little, as the light grew, he came to$9$ know this chair, so well, 000:001;01[' ]| that in the end he knew it better than many a chair he had sat on, or stood on, when 000:001;01[' ]| the object was beyond his reach, or shod his feet on, or toileted his feet on, one after 000:001;01[' ]| the other, paring and curetting the nails, and scouring the web-holes, with a spoon. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| It was a high, narrow, black, wooden chair, with arms, and castors. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| One of its feet was screwed to$4$ the floor, by means of a clamp. Not one of the 000:001;01[' ]| remaining feet, but all, carried similar, if not identical irons. Not one, but all! But the 000:001;01[' ]| screws, which no doubt had once fixed these to$4$ the floor, had very kindly been 000:001;01[' ]| removed. Through the bars, which were vertical, of the back, Watt saw portions of a 000:001;01[' ]| grate, heaped high with ashes, and cinders, of a beautiful grey colour. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| This chair then had been with Watt, all this time, in the waiting-room, all these 000:001;01[' ]| hours, of scant light, of no light, and it was with him still, in the exhilarating dawn. It 000:001;01[' ]| would not be$1$ impossible, after all, to$9$ take it away, and put it somewhere else, or sell 000:001;01[' ]| it by auction, or give it away. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Otherwise, as far as Watt could see, all was wall, or floor or ceiling. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| There next emerged, without haste, from the wall, a 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| large coloured print of the horse Joss, standing in profile in a field. Watt identified, 000:001;01[' ]| first the field, then the horse, and then, thanks to$4$ a inscription of great , the 000:001;01[' ]| horse Joss. This horse, its four hooves firmly planted on the ground, its head sunk, 000:001;01[' ]| seemed to$9$ consider, without appetite, the grass. Watt pushed forward his head, to$9$ see 000:001;01[' ]| if it was really a horse, and not a mare, or a gelding. But this interesting information 000:001;01[' ]| was hidden, just hidden, by a haunch, or tail of more decency than breeding. The 000:001;01[' ]| light was that of approaching night, or impending storm, or both. The grass was 000:001;01[' ]| sparse, sere, and overrun with what Watt took to$9$ be$1$ a species of cockle. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The horse seemed hardly able to$9$ stand, let alone run. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| This object too had not been always here, would perhaps not be$1$ always here. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The flies, of skeleton thinness, excited to$4$ new efforts by yet another dawn, left the 000:001;01[' ]| walls, and the ceiling, and even the floor, and hastened in great numbers to$4$ the 000:001;01[' ]| window. Here, pressed against the impenetrable panes, they would enjoy the light, 000:001;01[' ]| and warmth, of the long summer's day. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| A merry whistling now sounded, afar off, and the nearer it approached, the merrier it 000:001;01[' ]| grew. For Mr. Nolan's spirits always rose, as he approached the station, in the 000:001;01[' ]| morning. They rose also, invariably, in the evening, when he left it. Thus Mr. Nolan 000:001;01[' ]| was assured, twice a day, of a rise in spirits. And when Mr. Nolan's spirits rose, he 000:001;01[' ]| could no more refrain from whistling, merrily, than a lark from singing, when it rises. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| It was Mr. Nolan's habit, when he had flung open all the station doors, with the air of 000:001;01[' ]| one storming a bastille, to$9$ retire to$4$ the porters' restroom, and there drink a bottle of 000:001;01[' ]| stout, the first of the day, over the previous evening's paper. Mr. Nolan was a great 000:001;01[' ]| reader of the evening paper. He read it five times, at his tea, at his supper, at his 000:001;01[' ]| breakfast, 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| with his morning stout and at his dinner. In the course of the afternoon, for he had a 000:001;01[' ]| very gallant nature, he carried it to$4$ the ladies' house of office, and left it there, in a 000:001;01[' ]| conspicuous position. Few pennyworths gave more joy, than Mr. Nolan's evening 000:001;01[' ]| paper. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Nolan then, having unlocked and hurled, against their jambs, the wicket and the 000:001;01[' ]| booking-office door, came to$4$ the door of the waiting-room. Had his whistle been less 000:001;01[' ]| piercing, and his entry less resounding, he might have$1$ heard, behind the door, a 000:001;01[' ]| disquieting sound, that of soliloquy, under dictation, and proceeded with care. But 000:001;01[' ]| no, he turned the key and dealt, with his boot, the door a dunt that sent it flying 000:001;01[' ]| inwards, at a great speed. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The innumerable semicircles thus brilliantly begun did not end, as on all previous 000:001;01[' ]| mornings, in the bang that Mr. Nolan loved, no, but they were all cut short, all 000:001;01[' ]| without exception, at the same point. And the reason for that was this, that Watt, 000:001;01[' ]| where he stood, swaying, murmuring, was nearer the waiting-room door than the 000:001;01[' ]| waiting-room door was wide. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Nolan found Mr. Gorman on his doorstep, taking leave of his mother. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Now I am at liberty, said Watt, I am free to$9$ come and go, as I please. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| There were four armpits, where the friezes met, four fair armpits. Watt saw the 000:001;01[' ]| ceiling with a extreme distinctness. It was of a whiteness that he would not have$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| believed possible, if it had been reported to$4$ him. It was a rest, after the wall. It was a 000:001;01[' ]| rest too, after the floor. It was such a rest, after the wall, and the floor, and the chair, 000:001;01[' ]| and the horse, and the flies, that Watt's eyes closed, a thing they never did by day in 000:001;01[' ]| the ordinary way on any account, except very briefly now and then, to$9$ prevent 000:001;01[' ]| themselves from becoming too dry. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Poor fellow, said Mr. Gorman, shall we telephone for a policeman. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Nolan was all in favour of telephoning for a policeman. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Help him to$9$ rise, said Mr. Gorman, perhaps he has a bone broke. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But Mr. Nolan could not bring himself to$9$ do$1$ this. He stood in the middle of the 000:001;01[' ]| booking-office, unable to$9$ move. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| You do not expect me to$9$ help him to$9$ rise, all alone, said Mr. Gorman. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Nolan expected nothing. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Together let us levvy him to$4$ his feet, said Mr. Gorman. Then, if necessary, you will 000:001;01[' ]| telephone for a policeman. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Nolan dearly loved to$9$ telephone. It was a treat seldom vouchsafed him. But in the 000:001;01[' ]| door of the waiting-room he stopped short, and said he could not. He was sorry, he said, 000:001;01[' ]| but he could not. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Perhaps you are right, said Mr. Gorman. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Yet we can not leave him there like that, said Mr. Gorman. The five-fifty-five will be$1$ 000:001;01[' ]| upon us ~~ he consulted his watch-in thirty-seven and . . . . . . in a 000:001;01[' ]| lower voice, And the six-four will follow hard behind. The thought of the six-four 000:001;01[' ]| seemed to$9$ trouble him particularly, for some reason. There is not a moment to$9$ lose, he 000:001;01[' ]| exclaimed. He drew himself up, threw back his head, lowered the hand that held the 000:001;01[' ]| watch to$4$ the level of the glans (Mr. Gorman had a very long arm) penis, laid the other to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| his temple and took the time. Then suddenly flexing his knees, and hunching his back, 000:001;01[' ]| he cuddled the watch to$4$ his ear in the attitude of a child cringing away from a blow. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| It was as he feared, later than he hoped. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Run fetch a bucket of water, he said, perhaps who knows 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| if we souse him thoroughly he will get up of his own free will. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Perhaps the hose ~~, said Mr. Nolan. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The bucket, I said, said Mr. Gorman, from the tap. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| What bucket? said Mr. Nolan. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Bloody well you know what bucket! cried Mr. Gorman, not however a impatient 000:001;01[' ]| man as a rule. The muck bloody bucket, blast your bloody . . . He paused. The day 000:001;01[' ]| was Saturday. Your bloody eyes, he said. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt distinguished fragments of a part: 000:001;01[' ]| Klippe zu Klippe geworfen 000:001;01[' ]| Endlos in hinab. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Gorman and Mr. Nolan advanced together, stooping, the bucket, heavy with 000:001;01[' ]| slime, held between them. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Sister, sister beware of a sullen silent sot 000:001;01[' ]| always musing never thinks. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Gently does it, said Mr. Gorman. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Is that the gob? said Mr. Nolan. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Gently, gently, said Mr. Gorman. Have you got a firm holt on her$2$? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I have not, said Mr. Nolan. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Do not let go whatever you do, said Mr. Gorman. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Or is it a hole in his trousers? said Mr. Nolan. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Never mind what it is, said Mr. Gorman. Are you right? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Hold back the handle, said Mr. Nolan. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| To$4$ hell with the bloody handle, said Mr. Gorman. Tilt the bucket when I tell you. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Tilt her$6$ with what? said Mr. Nolan. With the hair on me chest? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Gorman spat violently into the bucket, Mr. Gorman who never spat, in the 000:001;01[' ]| ordinary way, if not into his pocket handkerchief. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Put down the bucket, said Mr. Gorman. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| They put down the bucket. Mr. Gorman took the time, as before. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Lady McCann will be$1$ upon us in ten minutes, said Mr. Gorman. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Lady McCann was a lady who daily left the neighbourhood by the first train in the 000:001;01[' ]| morning, and returned to$4$ it by the last at night. Her$2$ reasons for doing this were not 000:001;01[' ]| known. On Sundays she remained in bed, receiving there the mass, and other meals 000:001;01[' ]| and visitors. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Hell roast her$6$, said Mr. Gorman. Good morning, Mr. Gorman, lovely morning, Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Gorman. Lovely morning! 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| And Arsy Cox, said Mr. Nolan. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| And Herring-gut Waller, said Mr. Gorman. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| And Cack-faced Miller, said Mr. Nolan. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| And Mrs. Penny-a-hoist Pim, said Mr. Gorman. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| That old put, said Mr. Nolan. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Do you know what she says to$4$ me the other day? said Mr. Gorman. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| What was that? said Mr. Nolan. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| In my private burreau, said Mr. Gorman. Placing his thumb and forefinger on his 000:001;01[' ]| cheekbones, he pushed up the long yellow-grey moustache. Shortly after the 000:001;01[' ]| departure of the eleven-twenty-four, he said. Mr. Gorman, says she, winter may be$1$ in 000:001;01[' ]| my hair, but there is still plenty of spring in my do you follow me. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The right hand firmly on the rim, said Mr. Gorman, the fingers of the left curled 000:001;01[' ]| round the ~~ 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I follow you, said Mr. Nolan. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| They stooped. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| God knows why I give myself all this trouble, said Mr. Gorman. Tilt when I say the 000:001;01[' ]| word. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The bucket slowly rose. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Not all at one go, said Mr. Gorman, there is no point in soiling the floor 000:001;01[' ]| unnecessarily. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Nolan now releasing his hold on the bucket, Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Gorman, who did not care to$9$ wet the outside of his trousers, was obliged to$9$ do$1$ the 000:001;01[' ]| same. Together rapidly in safety they gained the door. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I declare to$4$ God she sprang out of me hands, like as if she was alive, said Mr. Nolan. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| If that does not get him up, nothing will, said Mr. Gorman. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Blood now perfused the slime. Mr. Gorman and Mr. Nolan were not alarmed. It was 000:001;01[' ]| unlikely that a vital organ was touched. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Case arrived. He had passed a unrefreshing night, in a sense, but his humour 000:001;01[' ]| was excellent. He carried, in one hand, a can of hot tea, and, in the other, Songs by 000:001;01[' ]| the Way, which the untoward events of the early morning had caused him to$9$ forget to$9$ 000:001;01[' ]| leave behind, in his cabin, on the shelf, as his habit was. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| He wished good morning to$4$, and shook hands warmly with, first Mr. Gorman, and 000:001;01[' ]| then Mr. Nolan, who in their turn, and in that order, wished a very good morning to$4$ 000:001;01[' ]| him, and shook him heartily by the hand. And then remembering, Mr. Gorman and 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Nolan, that in the heat of the morning's vicissitudes they had forgotten to$9$ wish 000:001;01[' ]| each other good morning, and shake each other by the hand, they did so now, most 000:001;01[' ]| cordially, without further delay. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Case's narrative was of great interest to$4$ Mr. Gorman, and to$4$ Mr. Nolan, there 000:001;01[' ]| shedding light, as it did, where until now all had been dark. Much however remained 000:001;01[' ]| to$9$ be$1$ elucidated. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| You are sure it is the same? said Mr. Gorman. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Case picked his way, to$4$ where Watt lay. Bending he scraped, with his book, a 000:001;01[' ]| little mire from the face. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Oh, you will spoil your nice book, cried Mr. Gorman. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The clothes seem to$4$ me the same, said Mr. Case. He went to$4$ the window and 000:001;01[' ]| turned-over, with his boot, the hat. I recognize the hat, he said. He rejoined Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Gorman 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| and Mr. Nolan in the doorway. I see the bags, he said, but I can not say$1$ that I 000:001;01[' ]| recognize the face. It is true, if it is the same, that I have only seen it twice before, 000:001;01[' ]| and both times the light was poor, oh very poor. And yet I have a great memory for 000:001;01[' ]| faces, as a rule. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Particular a face like that, said Mr. Nolan. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| And for arses, added Mr. Case, as a afterthought. Let me once catch a fair glimpse 000:001;01[' ]| of a arse, and I will pick it out for you among a million. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Nolan murmured something to$4$ his superior. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Grossly exaggerated, said Mr. Gorman. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Otherwise my memory is poor, said Mr. Case, oh very poor, as my wife could tell 000:001;01[' ]| you. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Lady McCann joined the group. Greetings were exchanged, and salutes. Mr. Gorman 000:001;01[' ]| told her$6$ what they knew. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Do I see blood? said Lady McCann. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| A mere trickle, my lady, said Mr. Case, from the nose, or perhaps the lug. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Arsy Cox and Herring-gut Waller arrived together. Following the usual compliments, 000:001;01[' ]| and prescribed motions of the head, and hands, Lady McCann informed them of 000:001;01[' ]| what had passed. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Something must be$1$ done, said Mr. Cox. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| At once, said Mr. Waller. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| A breathless boy appeared. He said he was sent by Mr. Cole. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Cole? said Lady McCann. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Of the level-crossing, my lady, said Mr. Case. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Cole desired to$9$ know why Mr. Case's signals were against Mr. Cole's 000:001;01[' ]| five-fifty-seven, now rapidly approaching, from the south-east. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| God bless my soul, said Mr. Case, what can I have$1$ been thinking of. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But he had not reached the door, when Mr. Gorman, on a sign from the boy, desired 000:001;01[' ]| him to$9$ stay. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Cole, said the boy, would also be$1$ very happy to$9$ learn for what reasons Mr. Case's 000:001;01[' ]| signals were against Mr. Cole's six-six, now hastening towards him, from the 000:001;01[' ]| north-west. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Return, my little man, said Lady McCan, to$4$ him that sent you. Tell him that ~~ has 000:001;01[' ]| been the scene of terrible events, but that now all is well. Repeat now after me. The 000:001;01[' ]| scene . . . of terrible ... terrible ... events ... but that now ... all is well ... Very good. 000:001;01[' ]| Here is a penny. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Cack-faced Miller arrived. Cack-faced Miller never greeted anyone, orally or 000:001;01[' ]| otherwise, and few people ever greeted Cack-faced Miller. He knelt down beside 000:001;01[' ]| Watt and inserted his hand under the head. In this touching attitude he remained for 000:001;01[' ]| some time. He then rose and went away. He stood on the platform, his back to$4$ the 000:001;01[' ]| line, his face to$4$ the wicket. The sun had not yet risen, above the sea. It had not yet 000:001;01[' ]| risen, but it was rising fast. As he watched, it rose, and shone, with its faint morning 000:001;01[' ]| shining, on his face. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt now also rose, to$4$ the no small diversion of Messrs. Gorman, Nolan, Cox and 000:001;01[' ]| Waller. Lady McCann was less amused. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Who the devil are you, said Mr. Gorman, and what the hell do you want? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt found his hat and put it on. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Gorman repeated his question. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt found his bags, first one, then the other, and settled them in his hands, in the 000:001;01[' ]| way that irked him least. The group fell away from the door and he passed out, into 000:001;01[' ]| the booking-office. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Who is he? said Mr. Cox. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| And what does he want? said Mr. Waller, 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Speak, said Lady McCann. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt halted before the ticket-window, put down his 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| bags, once more, and knocked on the wooden shutter. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Go and see what he wants, said Mr. Gorman. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| When Watt saw a face on the other side of the window, he said: 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Give me a ticket, if you please. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| He wants a ticket, cried Mr. Nolan. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| A ticket to$4$ where? said Mr. Gorman. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Where to$4$? said Mr. Nolan. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| To$4$ the end of the line, said Watt. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| He wants a ticket to$4$ the end of the line, cried Mr. Nolan. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Is it a white man? said Lady McCann. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Which end? said Mr. Gorman. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| What end? said Mr. Nolan. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt did not reply. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The round end or the square end? said Mr. Nolan. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt reflected a little longer. Then he said: 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The nearer end. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The nearest end, cried Mr. Nolan. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| There is no need to$9$ bellow, said Mr. Cox. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The voice is low, but clear, said Mr. Waller. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But what a extraordinary accent, said Lady McCann. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| I beg your pardon, said Watt, I mean the farther end. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| What you want is a free pass, said Mr. Nolan. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Issue him a third single to$4$ ~~ , said Mr. Gorman, and let us have done. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| One and three, said Mr. Nolan. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt counted out, in the fluted trough, one shilling, two sixpences, three threepences, 000:001;01[' ]| and four pennies. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| What is all this? said Mr. Nolan. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Three and one, said Watt. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| One and three, roared Mr. Nolan. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Watt put the difference in his pocket. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| The train! exclaimed Lady McCann. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Quick, said Mr. Cox, two there and back. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| It was Mr. Cox's and Mr. Waller's practice, though they travelled daily, on this line, 000:001;01[' ]| to$4$ and from the city, to$9$ buy their tickets every morning anew. One day it was Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Cox who paid, and the next it was Mr. Waller. The reasons for this are not known. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Not many minutes later the six-four entered the station. It did not take up a single 000:001;01[' ]| passenger, in the absence of Mrs. Pim. But it discharged a bicycle, for a Miss 000:001;01[' ]| Walker. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Case, free now again to$9$ leave his box, joined Mr. Gorman and Mr. Nolan, before 000:001;01[' ]| the wicket. The sun was now well above the visible horizon. Mr. Gorman, Mr. Case 000:001;01[' ]| and Mr. Nolan turned their faces towards it, as men will, in the early morning, 000:001;01[' ]| without heeding. The road lay still, at this hour, leaden, deserted, between its hedges, 000:001;01[' ]| and its ditches. From one of these latter a goat emerged, dragging its pale and chain. 000:001;01[' ]| The goat hesitated, in the middle of the road, then turned away. The clatter came 000:001;01[' ]| fainter and fainter, down the still air, and came still faintly when the pale had 000:001;01[' ]| disappeared, beyond the rise. The trembling sea could not but be$1$ admired. The leaves 000:001;01[' ]| quivered, or gave the impression of doing so, and the grasses also, beneath the drops, 000:001;01[' ]| or beads, of gaily expiring dew. The long summer's day had made a excellent start. 000:001;01[' ]| If it continued in the same manner, its close would be$1$ worth coming to$9$ see. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| All the same, said Mr. Gorman, life is not such a bad old bugger. He raised high his 000:001;01[' ]| hands and spread them out, in a gesture of worship. He then replaced them in the 000:001;01[' ]| pockets, of his trousers. When all is said and done, he said. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Riley's puckaun again, said Mr. Nolan, I can smell him from here. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| And they say there is no God, said Mr. Case. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| All three laughed heartily at this extravagance. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Gorman consulted his watch. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| To$9$ work, he said. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| They parted. Mr. Gorman went in one direction, Mr. Case in another and Mr. Nolan 000:001;01[' ]| in a third. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| But they had not gone far when Mr. Case hesitated, went on, hesitated again, 000:001;01[' ]| stopped, turned and cried: 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| And our friend? 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Gorman and Mr. Nolan stopped and turned. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Friend? said Mr. Gorman. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Gorman was between Mr. Case and Mr. Nolan, and so did not need to$9$ raise his 000:001;01[' ]| voice. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Is it the long wet dream with the hat and bags? cried Mr. Nolan. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| Mr. Nolan looked at Mr. Case, Mr. Case at Mr. Nolan, Mr. Gorman at Mr. Case, Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Gorman at Mr. Nolan, Mr. Nolan at Mr. Gorman. Mr. Case at Mr. Gorman, Mr. 000:001;01[' ]| Gorman again at Mr. Case, again at Mr. Nolan, and then straight before him, at 000:001;01[' ]| nothing in particular. And so they stayed a little while, Mr. Case and Mr. Nolan 000:001;01[' ]| looking at Mr. Gorman, and Mr. Gorman looking straight before him, at nothing in 000:001;01[' ]| particular, though the sky falling to$4$ the hills, and the hills falling to$4$ the plain, made 000:001;01[' ]| as pretty a picture, in the early morning light, as a man could hope to$9$ meet with, in a 000:001;01[' ]| day's march. 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]| <1 The following precious and illuminating material should be> 000:001;01[' ]| 000:001;01[' ]|