The Wrong Box


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sandwich. I daresay I surprise you,' he went on, 'with my presence in  
a public-house; but the fact is, I act on a sound but little-known  
principle of my own--'  
'O, it's better known than you suppose,' said Michael sipping his brandy  
and soda. 'I always act on it myself when I want a drink.'  
The old gentleman, who was anxious to propitiate Michael, laughed a  
cheerless laugh. 'You have such a flow of spirits,' said he, 'I am sure  
I often find it quite amusing. But regarding this principle of which  
I was about to speak. It is that of accommodating one's-self to the  
manners of any land (however humble) in which our lot may be cast. Now,  
in France, for instance, every one goes to a cafe for his meals; in  
America, to what is called a "two-bit house"; in England the people  
resort to such an institution as the present for refreshment. With  
sandwiches, tea, and an occasional glass of bitter beer, a man can live  
luxuriously in London for fourteen pounds twelve shillings per annum.'  
'Yes, I know,' returned Michael, 'but that's not including clothes,  
washing, or boots. The whole thing, with cigars and occasional sprees,  
costs me over seven hundred a year.'  
But this was Michael's last interruption. He listened in good-humoured  
silence to the remainder of his uncle's lecture, which speedily branched  
to political reform, thence to the theory of the weather-glass, with an  
illustrative account of a bora in the Adriatic; thence again to the best  
150  


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148 149 150 151 152

Quick Jump
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