DarqueDante/test2 · Datasets at Hugging Face

text stringlengths 0 74
into the very simple problem presented by Miss Mary Sutherland, that
for strange effects and extraordinary combinations we must go to life
itself, which is always far more daring than any effort of the
imagination."

"A proposition which I took the liberty of doubting."

"You did, Doctor, but none the less you must come round to my view,
for otherwise I shall keep on piling fact upon fact on you until your
reason breaks down under them and acknowledges me to be right. Now,
Mr. Jabez Wilson here has been good enough to call upon me this
morning, and to begin a narrative which promises to be one of the
most singular which I have listened to for some time. You have heard
me remark that the strangest and most unique things are very often
connected not with the larger but with the smaller crimes, and
occasionally, indeed, where there is room for doubt whether any
positive crime has been committed. As far as I have heard it is
impossible for me to say whether the present case is an instance of
crime or not, but the course of events is certainly among the most
singular that I have ever listened to. Perhaps, Mr. Wilson, you would
have the great kindness to recommence your narrative. I ask you not
merely because my friend Dr. Watson has not heard the opening part
but also because the peculiar nature of the story makes me anxious to
have every possible detail from your lips. As a rule, when I have
heard some slight indication of the course of events, I am able to
guide myself by the thousands of other similar cases which occur to
my memory. In the present instance I am forced to admit that the
facts are, to the best of my belief, unique."

The portly client puffed out his chest with an appearance of some
little pride and pulled a dirty and wrinkled newspaper from the
inside pocket of his greatcoat. As he glanced down the advertisement
column, with his head thrust forward and the paper flattened out upon
his knee, I took a good look at the man and endeavoured, after the
fashion of my companion, to read the indications which might be
presented by his dress or appearance.

I did not gain very much, however, by my inspection. Our visitor bore
every mark of being an average commonplace British tradesman, obese,
pompous, and slow. He wore rather baggy grey shepherd's check
trousers, a not over-clean black frock-coat, unbuttoned in the front,
and a drab waistcoat with a heavy brassy Albert chain, and a square
pierced bit of metal dangling down as an ornament. A frayed top-hat
and a faded brown overcoat with a wrinkled velvet collar lay upon a
chair beside him. Altogether, look as I would, there was nothing
remarkable about the man save his blazing red head, and the
expression of extreme chagrin and discontent upon his features.

Sherlock Holmes' quick eye took in my occupation, and he shook his
head with a smile as he noticed my questioning glances. "Beyond the
obvious facts that he has at some time done manual labour, that he
takes snuff, that he is a Freemason, that he has been in China, and
that he has done a considerable amount of writing lately, I can
deduce nothing else."

Mr. Jabez Wilson started up in his chair, with his forefinger upon
the paper, but his eyes upon my companion.

"How, in the name of good-fortune, did you know all that, Mr.
Holmes?" he asked. "How did you know, for example, that I did manual
labour. It's as true as gospel, for I began as a ship's carpenter."

"Your hands, my dear sir. Your right hand is quite a size larger than
your left. You have worked with it, and the muscles are more
developed."

"Well, the snuff, then, and the Freemasonry?"

"I won't insult your intelligence by telling you how I read that,
especially as, rather against the strict rules of your order, you use
an arc-and-compass breastpin."

"Ah, of course, I forgot that. But the writing?"

"What else can be indicated by that right cuff so very shiny for five
inches, and the left one with the smooth patch near the elbow where
you rest it upon the desk?"

"Well, but China?"

"The fish that you have tattooed immediately above your right wrist
could only have been done in China. I have made a small study of
tattoo marks and have even contributed to the literature of the
subject. That trick of staining the fishes' scales of a delicate pink
is quite peculiar to China. When, in addition, I see a Chinese coin
hanging from your watch-chain, the matter becomes even more simple."

Mr. Jabez Wilson laughed heavily. "Well, I never!" said he. "I
thought at first that you had done something clever, but I see that
there was nothing in it, after all."

"I begin to think, Watson," said Holmes, "that I make a mistake in
explaining. 'Omne ignotum pro magnifico,' you know, and my poor
little reputation, such as it is, will suffer shipwreck if I am so
candid. Can you not find the advertisement, Mr. Wilson?"

"Yes, I have got it now," he answered with his thick red finger
planted halfway down the column. "Here it is. This is what began it
all. You just read it for yourself, sir."

into the very simple problem presented by Miss Mary Sutherland, that

for strange effects and extraordinary combinations we must go to life

itself, which is always far more daring than any effort of the

imagination."

"A proposition which I took the liberty of doubting."

"You did, Doctor, but none the less you must come round to my view,

for otherwise I shall keep on piling fact upon fact on you until your

reason breaks down under them and acknowledges me to be right. Now,

Mr. Jabez Wilson here has been good enough to call upon me this

morning, and to begin a narrative which promises to be one of the

most singular which I have listened to for some time. You have heard

me remark that the strangest and most unique things are very often

connected not with the larger but with the smaller crimes, and

occasionally, indeed, where there is room for doubt whether any

positive crime has been committed. As far as I have heard it is

impossible for me to say whether the present case is an instance of

crime or not, but the course of events is certainly among the most

singular that I have ever listened to. Perhaps, Mr. Wilson, you would

have the great kindness to recommence your narrative. I ask you not

merely because my friend Dr. Watson has not heard the opening part

but also because the peculiar nature of the story makes me anxious to

have every possible detail from your lips. As a rule, when I have

heard some slight indication of the course of events, I am able to

guide myself by the thousands of other similar cases which occur to

my memory. In the present instance I am forced to admit that the

facts are, to the best of my belief, unique."

The portly client puffed out his chest with an appearance of some

little pride and pulled a dirty and wrinkled newspaper from the

inside pocket of his greatcoat. As he glanced down the advertisement

column, with his head thrust forward and the paper flattened out upon

his knee, I took a good look at the man and endeavoured, after the

fashion of my companion, to read the indications which might be

presented by his dress or appearance.

I did not gain very much, however, by my inspection. Our visitor bore

every mark of being an average commonplace British tradesman, obese,

pompous, and slow. He wore rather baggy grey shepherd's check

trousers, a not over-clean black frock-coat, unbuttoned in the front,

and a drab waistcoat with a heavy brassy Albert chain, and a square

pierced bit of metal dangling down as an ornament. A frayed top-hat

and a faded brown overcoat with a wrinkled velvet collar lay upon a

chair beside him. Altogether, look as I would, there was nothing

remarkable about the man save his blazing red head, and the

expression of extreme chagrin and discontent upon his features.

Sherlock Holmes' quick eye took in my occupation, and he shook his

head with a smile as he noticed my questioning glances. "Beyond the

obvious facts that he has at some time done manual labour, that he

takes snuff, that he is a Freemason, that he has been in China, and

that he has done a considerable amount of writing lately, I can

deduce nothing else."

Mr. Jabez Wilson started up in his chair, with his forefinger upon

the paper, but his eyes upon my companion.

"How, in the name of good-fortune, did you know all that, Mr.

Holmes?" he asked. "How did you know, for example, that I did manual

labour. It's as true as gospel, for I began as a ship's carpenter."

"Your hands, my dear sir. Your right hand is quite a size larger than

your left. You have worked with it, and the muscles are more

developed."

"Well, the snuff, then, and the Freemasonry?"

"I won't insult your intelligence by telling you how I read that,

especially as, rather against the strict rules of your order, you use

an arc-and-compass breastpin."

"Ah, of course, I forgot that. But the writing?"

"What else can be indicated by that right cuff so very shiny for five

inches, and the left one with the smooth patch near the elbow where

you rest it upon the desk?"

"Well, but China?"

"The fish that you have tattooed immediately above your right wrist

could only have been done in China. I have made a small study of

tattoo marks and have even contributed to the literature of the

subject. That trick of staining the fishes' scales of a delicate pink

is quite peculiar to China. When, in addition, I see a Chinese coin

hanging from your watch-chain, the matter becomes even more simple."

Mr. Jabez Wilson laughed heavily. "Well, I never!" said he. "I

thought at first that you had done something clever, but I see that

there was nothing in it, after all."

"I begin to think, Watson," said Holmes, "that I make a mistake in

explaining. 'Omne ignotum pro magnifico,' you know, and my poor

little reputation, such as it is, will suffer shipwreck if I am so

candid. Can you not find the advertisement, Mr. Wilson?"

"Yes, I have got it now," he answered with his thick red finger

planted halfway down the column. "Here it is. This is what began it

all. You just read it for yourself, sir."