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elapt1c
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ElapticAI-512

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suggested that the hat had been suspended in this manner for the
purpose of examination.
“You are engaged, said I; “perhaps I interrupt you.
“Not at all. I am glad to have a friend with whom I can discuss my
results. The matter is a perfectly trivial one —he jerked his thumb in
the direction of the old hat—“but there are points in connection with
it which are not entirely devoid of interest and even of instruction.
I seated myself in his armchair and warmed my hands before his
crackling fire, for a sharp frost had set in, and the windows were
thick with the ice crystals. “I suppose, I remarked, “that, homely as
it looks, this thing has some deadly story linked on to it—that it is
the clue which will guide you in the solution of some mystery and the
punishment of some crime.
“No, no. No crime, said Sherlock Holmes, laughing. “Only one of those
whimsical little incidents which will happen when you have four million
human beings all jostling each other within the space of a few square
miles. Amid the action and reaction of so dense a swarm of humanity,
every possible combination of events may be expected to take place, and
many a little problem will be presented which may be striking and
bizarre without being criminal. We have already had experience of
such.
“So much so, I remarked, “that of the last six cases which I have
added to my notes, three have been entirely free of any legal crime.
“Precisely. You allude to my attempt to recover the Irene Adler papers,
to the singular case of Miss Mary Sutherland, and to the adventure of
the man with the twisted lip. Well, I have no doubt that this small
matter will fall into the same innocent category. You know Peterson,
the commissionaire?
“Yes.
“It is to him that this trophy belongs.
“It is his hat.
“No, no, he found it. Its owner is unknown. I beg that you will look
upon it not as a battered billycock but as an intellectual problem.
And, first, as to how it came here. It arrived upon Christmas morning,
in company with a good fat goose, which is, I have no doubt, roasting
at this moment in front of Peterson’s fire. The facts are these: about
four o’clock on Christmas morning, Peterson, who, as you know, is a
very honest fellow, was returning from some small jollification and was
making his way homeward down Tottenham Court Road. In front of him he
saw, in the gaslight, a tallish man, walking with a slight stagger, and
carrying a white goose slung over his shoulder. As he reached the
corner of Goodge Street, a row broke out between this stranger and a
little knot of roughs. One of the latter knocked off the man’s hat, on
which he raised his stick to defend himself and, swinging it over his
head, smashed the shop window behind him. Peterson had rushed forward
to protect the stranger from his assailants; but the man, shocked at
having broken the window, and seeing an official-looking person in
uniform rushing towards him, dropped his goose, took to his heels, and
vanished amid the labyrinth of small streets which lie at the back of
Tottenham Court Road. The roughs had also fled at the appearance of
Peterson, so that he was left in possession of the field of battle, and
also of the spoils of victory in the shape of this battered hat and a
most unimpeachable Christmas goose.
“Which surely he restored to their owner?
“My dear fellow, there lies the problem. It is true that ‘For Mrs.
Henry Baker’ was printed upon a small card which was tied to the bird’s
left leg, and it is also true that the initials ‘H. B.’ are legible
upon the lining of this hat, but as there are some thousands of Bakers,
and some hundreds of Henry Bakers in this city of ours, it is not easy
to restore lost property to any one of them.
“What, then, did Peterson do?
“He brought round both hat and goose to me on Christmas morning,
knowing that even the smallest problems are of interest to me. The
goose we retained until this morning, when there were signs that, in
spite of the slight frost, it would be well that it should be eaten
without unnecessary delay. Its finder has carried it off, therefore, to
fulfil the ultimate destiny of a goose, while I continue to retain the
hat of the unknown gentleman who lost his Christmas dinner.
“Did he not advertise?
“No.
“Then, what clue could you have as to his identity?
“Only as much as we can deduce.
“From his hat?
“Precisely.
“But you are joking. What can you gather from this old battered felt?
“Here is my lens. You know my methods. What can you gather yourself as
to the individuality of the man who has worn this article?