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same, that application has done its work, and taken you down in your own
estimation. You recognize that everybody hasn't as high an opinion
of you as you have of yourself; and in spite of you there ensues an
interval during which you are not, in your own estimation as fine a bird
as you were before.
However, being old and experienced, you do not mail your sharp letter,
but leave it lying a day. That saves you. For by that time you have
begun to reflect that you are a person who deals in exaggerations--and
exaggerations are lies. You meant yours to be playful, and thought you
made them unmistakably so. But you couldn't make them playfulnesses to a
man who has no sense of the playful and can see nothing but the serious
side of things. You rattle on quite playfully, and with measureless
extravagance, about how you wept at the tomb of Adam; and all in good
time you find to your astonishment that no end of people took you at
your word and believed you. And presently they find out that you were
not in earnest. They have been deceived; therefore, (as they argue--and
there is a sort of argument in it,) you are a deceiver. If you will
deceive in one way, why shouldn't you in another? So they apply for the
use of your trade-mark. You are amazed and affronted. You retort that
you are not that kind of person. Then they are amazed and affronted; and
wonder "since when?"
By this time you have got your bearings. You realize that perhaps there
is a little blame on both sides. You are in the right frame, now. So
you write a letter void of offense, declining. You mail this one; you
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