I have bought a clock which will not go; I have bought a moth poison
which the moths prefer to any other beverage; I have bought no end of
useless inventions, and now I have had enough of this foolishness.
I would not have one of your echoes if you were even to give it to me.
I would not let it stay on the place. I always hate a man that tries to
sell me echoes. You see this gun? Now take your collection and move on;
let us not have bloodshed.”
But he only smiled a sad, sweet smile, and got out some more diagrams.
You know the result perfectly well, because you know that when you have
once opened the door to a canvasser, the trouble is done and you have got
to suffer defeat.
I compromised with this man at the end of an intolerable hour. I bought
two double-barreled echoes in good condition, and he threw in another,
which he said was not salable because it only spoke German. He said,
“She was a perfect polyglot once, but somehow her palate got down.”
AN ENCOUNTER WITH AN INTERVIEWER
The nervous, dapper, “peart” young man took the chair I offered him, and
said he was connected with the Daily Thunderstorm, and added:
“Hoping it’s no harm, I’ve come to interview you.”
“Come to what?”
“Interview you.”
“Ah! I see. Yes–yes. Um! Yes–yes.”
I was not feeling bright that morning. Indeed, my powers seemed a bit
under a cloud. However, I went to the bookcase, and when I had been
looking six or seven minutes I found I was obliged to refer to the young
man. I said:
“How do you spell it?”
“Spell what?”
“Interview.”
“Oh, my goodness! what do you want to spell it for?”
“I don’t want to spell it; I want to see what it means.”
“Well, this is astonishing, I must say. I can tell you what it means, if
you–if you–”
“Oh, all right! That will answer, and much obliged to you, too.”
“In, in, ter, ter, inter–”
“Then you spell it with an h”
Why certainly!”
“Oh, that is what took me so long.”
“Why, my dear sir, what did you propose to spell it with?”
“Well, I–I–hardly know. I had the Unabridged, and I was ciphering
around in the back end, hoping I might tree her among the pictures.
But it’s a very old edition.”
“Why, my friend, they wouldn’t have a picture of it in even the latest
e– My dear sir, I beg your pardon, I mean no harm in the world, but you
do not look as–as–intelligent as I had expected you would. No harm–
I mean no harm at all.”
“Oh, don’t mention it! It has often been said, and by people who would
not flatter and who could have no inducement to flatter, that I am quite
remarkable in that way. Yes–yes; they always speak of it with rapture.”
“I can easily imagine it. But about this interview. You know it is the
custom, now, to interview any man who has become notorious.”
“Indeed, I had not heard of it before. It must be very interesting.
What do you do it with?”
“Ah, well–well–well–this is disheartening. It ought to be done with a
club in some cases; but customarily it consists in the interviewer asking
questions and the interviewed answering them. It is all the rage now.
Will you let me ask you certain questions calculated to bring out the
salient points of your public and private history?”
“Oh, with pleasure–with pleasure. I have a very bad memory, but I hope
you will not mind that. That is to say, it is an irregular memory–
singularly irregular. Sometimes it goes in a gallop, and then again it
will be as much as a fortnight passing a given point. This is a great
grief to me.”
“Oh, it is no matter, so you will try to do the best you can.”
“I will. I will put my whole mind on it.”
“Thanks. Are you ready to begin?”
“Ready.”
Q. How old are you?
A. Nineteen, in June.
Q. Indeed. I would have taken you to be thirty-five or six. Where were