I Am Well Aware That I Am

Mr. Tulkinghorn, Sitting In The Twilight By The Open Window, Enjoys His Wine. As If It Whispered To Him Of Its Fifty Years Of Silence And Seclusion, It Shuts Him Up The Closer. More Impenetrable Than Ever, He Sits, And Drinks, And Mellows As It Were In Secrecy, Pondering At That Twilight Hour On All The Mysteries He Knows.

Pause You Who Read This, And Think For A Moment Of The Long Chain Of Iron Or Gold, Of Thorns Or Flowers, That Would Never Have Bound You, But For The Formation Of The First Link On One Memorable Day.

The Secretary, Working In The Dismal Swamp Betimes Next Morning, Was Informed That A Youth Waited In The Hall Who Gave The Name Of Sloppy. The Footman Who Communicated This Intelligence Made A Decent Pause Before Uttering The Name, To Express That It Was Forced On His Reluctance By The Youth In Question, And That If The Youth Had Had The Good Sense And Good Taste To Inherit Some Other Name It Would Have Spared The Feelings Of Him The Bearer.

"then What Can You Want To Do Now?" Said The Old Lady,gaining Courage. "i Wants To Make Your Flesh Creep," Replied The Boy.

Indeed, It May Be Laid Down As A General Principle, That The More Extended The Ancestry, The Greater The Amount Of Violence And Vagabondism; For In Ancient Days Those Two Amusements, Combining A Wholesome Excitement With A Promising Means Of Repairing Shattered Fortunes, Were At Once The Ennobling Pursuit And The Healthful Recreation Of The Quality Of This Land.