The Stark Munro Letters: Being series of twelve letters written by J. Stark Munro, M.B., to his friend and former fellow-student, Herbert Swanborough, of Lowell, Massachusetts, during the years 1881-1884Doyle, Arthur Conan
General
The Stark Munro Letters: Being series of twelve letters written by J. Stark Munro, M.B., to his friend and former fellow-student, Herbert Swanborough, of Lowell, Massachusetts, during the years 1881-1884
Doyle, Arthur Conan
Epistolary fiction
Who do you think was the first person who broke this spell of
silence? The ruffian whom I had fought under the lamp-post. He is a
scissors-grinder it seems, and rang to know if I had a job for him. I
could not help grinning at him when I opened the door and saw who it
was. He showed no sign of recognising me, however, which is hardly to be
wondered at.
The next comer was a real bona fide patient, albeit a very modest one.
She was a little anaemic old maid, a chronic hypochondriac I should
judge, who had probably worked her way round every doctor in the town,
and was anxious to sample this novelty. I don’t know whether I gave her
satisfaction. She said that she would come again on Wednesday, but her
eyes shifted as she said it. One and sixpence was as much as she could
pay, but it was very welcome. I can live three days on one and sixpence.
I think that I have brought economy down to its finest point. No doubt,
for a short spell I could manage to live on a couple of pence a day; but
what I am doing now is not to be a mere spurt, but my regular mode of
life for many a month to come. My tea and sugar and milk (Swiss)
come collectively to one penny a day. The loaf is at twopence
three-farthings, and I consume one a day. My dinner consists in
rotation of one third of a pound of bacon, cooked over the gas (twopence
halfpenny), or two saveloys (twopence), or two pieces of fried
fish (twopence), or a quarter of an eightpenny tin of Chicago beef
(twopence). Any one of these, with a due allowance of bread and water,
makes a most substantial meal. Butter I have discarded for the present.
My actual board therefore comes well under sixpence a day, but I am a
patron of literature to the extent of a halfpenny a day, which I
expend upon an evening paper; for with events hurrying on like this in
Alexandria, I cannot bear to be without the news. Still I often reproach
myself with that halfpenny, for if I went out in the evening and looked
at the placards I might save it, and yet have a general idea of what is
going on. Of course, a halfpenny a night sounds nothing, but think of a
shilling a month! Perhaps you picture me as bloodless and pulled down on
this diet! I am thin, it is true, but I never felt more fit in my life.
So full of energy am I that I start off sometimes at ten at night and
walk hard until two or three in the morning. I dare not go out during
the day, you see, for fear that I should miss a patient. I have asked my
mother not to send little Paul down yet until I see my way more clearly.
Old Whitehall came in to see me the other day. The object of his visit
was to invite me to dinner, and the object of the dinner to inaugurate
my starting in practice. If I were the kind old fellow’s son he could
not take a deeper interest in me and my prospects.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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