Outing . went out to grip his did not touch him, mark you. Before Icould touch him he awoke. He stared atme, terror in his bloodshot eyes. I sat down calmly in my corner andlooked out again on the landscape. Themans eyes never left my face. Little bylittle his face grew redder; then bluepatches came out on it. When the train stopped at Verona hedid not get out. He who was telling the story paused,struck a fusee, lit his pipe carefully andlooked round at us who were listening. The Yarns of a Traveler 21 You see, he added, the man was dead. And you had not touched him? No, but his snori


Outing . went out to grip his did not touch him, mark you. Before Icould touch him he awoke. He stared atme, terror in his bloodshot eyes. I sat down calmly in my corner andlooked out again on the landscape. Themans eyes never left my face. Little bylittle his face grew redder; then bluepatches came out on it. When the train stopped at Verona hedid not get out. He who was telling the story paused,struck a fusee, lit his pipe carefully andlooked round at us who were listening. The Yarns of a Traveler 21 You see, he added, the man was dead. And you had not touched him? No, but his snoring annoyed me, the lean passenger concluded. No one spoke; only Mark Twain made a sort of er-er-ing sound and lifted his white eyebrows. promoter had also had an experience. Hetold it to us—something like this: I have not, said the promoter, anycriminal instincts—if the gentleman whohas just confessed will pardon me for say-ing so. It may be my fault; it may bethe fault of my parents—I have not read. At that instant my hand went out to grip his throat. THE DANGER OF OWNING AN UMBRELLA All of us, I fancy, felt that the dynamicgentleman was uncanny; those of us whoweighed over thirteen stone eyed him as-kance for the rest of the voyage and kept ournecks out of his reach—nor did any cf ussnore in his presence. The globe-trottirg Darwin and I do not want to be interruptedby any one who has. If Mr. Clemensand the novelist will pardon me, I willrepeat—I have no criminal instincts. Asa child it was remarked in me. At thecountry fairs where all the people—youngor old, gentle of face or savage—amusedthemselves by throwing balls at the wooden 22 The Outing Magazine


Size: 1530px × 1633px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No

Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade, booksubjectsports, booksubjecttravel