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"The Wrong Box"

'Dear me, do I
understand Mr Thomas to be a member of the firm?'
'O, pirated Broadwoods,' returned Michael. 'My friend's the American
Broadwood.'
'But I understood you to say,' objected Gideon, 'I certainly have it
so in my notes--that your friend was a manufacturer of india--rubber
overshoes.'
'I know it's confusing at first,' said the Australian, with a beaming
smile. 'But he--in short, he combines the two professions. And many
others besides--many, many, many others,' repeated Mr Dickson, with
drunken solemnity. 'Mr Thomas's cotton-mills are one of the sights of
Tallahassee; Mr Thomas's tobacco-mills are the pride of Richmond, Va.;
in short, he's one of my oldest friends, Mr Forsyth, and I lay his case
before you with emotion.'
The barrister looked at Mr Thomas and was agreeably prepossessed by his
open although nervous countenance, and the simplicity and timidity of
his manner. 'What a people are these Americans!' he thought. 'Look at
this nervous, weedy, simple little bird in a lownecked shirt, and
think of him wielding and directing interests so extended and seemingly
incongruous! 'But had we not better,' he observed aloud, 'had we not
perhaps better approach the facts?'
'Man of business, I perceive, sir!' said the Australian.


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