Deadwood. Find him
actually if you can, but find him. Away!"
I did as requested; that is, I took the cheque. Having supplied myself
with such luxuries as were absolutely necessary, I retired to my
lodgings. Upon my table in the centre of the room were spread some
clean white sheets of foolscap, and sat a bottle of black ink. It was
a good omen: the virgin paper was typical of the unexplored interior
of Africa; the sable ink represented the night of barbarism, or the
hue of barbarians, indifferently.
Now began the most arduous undertaking mentioned in the "York----," I
mean in history. Lighting my pipe, and fixing my eye upon the ink and
paper, I put my hands behind my back and took my departure from the
hearthrug toward the Interior. Language fails me; I throw myself upon
the reader's imagination. Before I had taken two steps, my vision
alighted upon the circular of a quack physician, which I had brought
home the day before around a bottle of hair-wash. I now saw the words,
"Twenty-one fevers!" This prostrated me for I know not how long.
Recovering, I took a step forward, when my eyes fastened themselves
upon my pen-wiper, worked into the similitude of a tiger. This
compelled me to retreat to the hearthrug for reinforcements. The
red-and-white dog displayed upon that article turned a deaf ear to my
entreaties; nothing would move him.
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