ARTHUR
16

The resolution to handle this passenger was almost formed; but the closer he got forward, my determination grew less and less strong. He noticed I wasn't until he came in a few steps. He seemed busy in reflection; and, had my figure not caught his attention, or had he only glanced at me at a glance, I should not have been brave enough to hold him back. However, the show is very different.

He looked at me and started. For a moment, as it were, and until he had time to glance at me, he checked his steps. This behavior disconnected me, and she stopped feeling the signs of wanting to greet him. I speak, but my accent and air are quite indicative of my shyness:

“I will ask for help which my situation thinks is very important to me, and which I hope is easy for you, Sir, to grant. This is not alms, but a loan, which I am looking for; a loan which I will repay when I can afford to do so. I would go to the countryside, but did not have the money to pay my travel expenses over Schuylkill, or to buy a loaf of bread. May I dare to ask you, Sir, a six-pence loan? As I said, my intention is to pay it back."

I convey this address, not without hesitation, but in earnest. I put special pressure on my intention to return the money. He listened with the most curious attitude. His eyes were watching me from head to toe.

After a while, he said very firmly, "Why to this country? Do you have a family? A relative? Friends?"

"No," I replied, "I don't have both. I went looking for a livelihood. I have passed my life on a farm, and proposed to die under the same conditions."

"Where did you come from?"

"I came yesterday from that country, with the intention to get my bread in some way, but have changed my plans and propose now to return."

"Why did you change it? In what way can you get your bread?"

"I barely know" I said. "I haven't been able to manage any tools, which can be managed in the city, except the pen. My habits, to some degree, qualified me to be a writer. I'm willing to accept such a job."

He turned his gaze to the earth, and was silent for a few minutes. Finally, after recovering, he said, "Follow me to my house. Maybe something can be done for you. Otherwise, I'll lend you six pence."

Unless you can assume my ignorance and simplicity, you will not be able to imagine the impression made by the size and ornaments of this apartment. I will dispel these impressions, which, indeed, no description can adequately convey, and think of incidents of greater moments. He asked me to give him an example of my handwriting. I told you that I have paid great attention to this art. Equipment was brought in, and I sat down for the task. With some inexplicable connections, a line in Shakspeare came to my mind, and I wrote,

"My poverty, but not my desire, agrees."

The sentiments conveyed in this line greatly affected him, but in a way that I could not understand. I gather from subsequent events that the conclusion does not harm my understanding or my morals. He asked me about my history. I told her my origins and my persuasion to leave my father's house. In connection with the adventure last night I was silent. I saw no useful purpose that could be answered with disclosure, and I was half-suspecting that my colleague would reject praise for my story.

There is often an interval of abstraction and reflection among his questions. My examination lasted no less than an hour. Finally he said, "I want an amanuensis or copyist. On what condition will you stay with me?"

I replied that I did not know how to estimate the value of my services. I don't know if this service is fun or healthy. My life is active until now. My constitution is predisposed to lung disease, and that change may be painful. However, I am willing to try and satisfy myself for a month or a year, by giving me food, clothing, and shelter.

"It's fine," he said. "You stayed with me as long and not longer than the two of us. You have to stay and eat in this house. I'll give you clothes, and your job is to write down what I'm told. It is in my power to equip you instantly in a way that becomes a resident in this house. Come with me.

He led the way to the backyard and from there to a neat building, which contained a large wooden vessel and pump: "There," he said, "You may take a bath; and, when that is done, when it is done, I'll take you to your house.your room and wardrobe."

This was done quickly, and so he led the way into the room. It was an apartment on the third floor, completed and furnished in the same expensive and extraordinary style as the rest of the house. He opened cabinets and drawers filled with clothes and linens of all kinds and types at best. "It's yours" he said, "provided you stay with me. Dress as you please. This is all your nudity needs. After you get dressed, you can come down for breakfast." With these words he left me.

The clothes were all French, as I found them later, by comparing my clothes to the clothes of others. They are fitted to my shape with the best precision. I adorned myself with all my treatments. I remember the style of dress used by my beloved Clavering. My key from the auburn is shining, flowing and smooth like his. After squeezing the wet one from her, and combing it, I tied it carelessly with a black ribbon. With that equipment, I observed myself in the mirror.

You can imagine, if you can, the sensation produced by this instantaneous transformation. Appearance is strongly influenced by clothing. Checkered shirts, buttons on the neck, awkward fustian coats, checkered trousers and bare feet, now replaced by linen and muslin, green striped nankeen coats, needle-stitched white silk vests, cassimere pantaloons, variegated silk stockings, and shoes that are in softness, suppleness, and polished surface compete with satin. I could hardly resist looking back to see if the image on the glass, which was so proportioned, so gallant, and so graceful, did not belong to anyone else. I could barely recognize my own straightness. I walk to the window. "Twenty minutes ago," I said, "i was crossing the road as a barefoot beggar; now I am." Once again I surveyed myself. "Of course some madness has been attached to my understanding. My senses are a dream sport. Some magic that underestimates the complexity of nature's progress has made this change." I was awakened from this doubt by the call to breakfast, which was delivered obediently by a black servant.