Upon the day with which this letter concerns itself I had set forth,
in accordance with an ever-present desire, to explore some of the
hidden places of the city. At the time a tempest of great ferocity was
raging, and bending my head before it I had the distinction of coming
into contact with a person of ill-endowed exterior at an angle where
two reads met. This amiable wayfarer exchanged civilities with me
after the politeness characteristic of the labouring classes towards
those who differ from them in speech, dress, or colour: that is to
say, he filled his pipe from my proffered store, and after lighting it
threw the match into my face, and passed on with an appropriate
remark.
Doubtless this insignificant occurrence would have faded without
internal comment if the penetrating Wei Chung had never existed, but
now, guided by his sublime precedent, I arranged the incident for the
day's conduct under three reflective heads.
It was while I was meditating on the second of these that an
exclamation caused me to turn, when I observed a prosperously-outlined
person in the act of picking up a scrip which had the appearance of
being lavishly distended with pieces of gold.
"If I had not seen you pass it, I should have opined that this hyer
wallet belonged to you," remarked the justice-loving stranger (for the
incident had irresistibly retarded my own footsteps), speaking the
language of this land, but with an accent of penetrating harmony
hitherto unknown to my ears.
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