The bell was knelling: dong, dong, dong, dong, dong, dong, dong, dong.
Inside the Hall there was nothing but gloom.
Suddenly the echoes were startled by a loud knocking on the door: rat,
tat, tat, tat, tat, tat, ratta, tatta, tatta, tatta, tat, tat.
Who could it be?
The old servitor shambled to undo the bolts. As he opened the door the
wind rushed in, carrying great flakes of snow with it and an icy blast
penetrated to every corner of the house.
There followed a man muffled up to the eyes in a vast red scarf--or
not so much red as pink, salmon colour--which he proceeded gradually
to unwind, revealing at length the features of Mr. James Tod Brown,
the senior partner of the firm of Brown, Brown & Brown, of Little
Britain. Save for a curious nervousness of speech which caused him to
repeat every remark several times, Mr. James Tod Brown was a typical
lawyer, in the matter of ability far in advance of either of his
partners, Brown or Brown.
"Dear me," he said, "dear me, dear me! This is very sad, very
sad--very sudden too, very sudden. And what--tut, tut, dear, dear, let
me see--what was the cause of--ah! What was the cause--what was it
that occasioned the--how did your master come to die? Yes, how did
your master come to die?"
* * * * *
"What is it all about?" asks the reader.
Well, it is not quite so meaningless as it may appear; there is method
in the madness; for this is a passage from a story by one of the most
popular English authors in America, to whom an American editor has
offered twenty cents a word. At the present rate of exchange such
commissions are not to be trifled with.
* * * * *
"Wanted, experienced Parlourmaid for a good home, where the
household does not change."--_Local Paper._