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Updated: April 17, 2025
"I've tried so many times to get in," admitted Kenny, "with Frank nippin' me just as my hand was on the knob, that I'm feelin' a bit surreptitious." He held up a tennis racket and a shotgun. "And everything else," he boasted with an air of triumph, "that I took to Simon." "And the bill-file!" exclaimed Brian, staring at the litter on the floor. "Jemima!" "You remember it, Brian?
The idea grew to be a mania with him, and he gradually developed into a utilitarian of the most pronounced type. Nothing in the world so suited him as an object, homely or otherwise, that could be used for something; the things that were used for nothing had no attractions for him. After this he developed further, and discovered new uses for old objects. Mrs. Carraway's parlor vases were turned into receptacles for matches, or papers, according to their size. The huge Satsuma vase became a more or less satisfactory bill-file; and the cloisonné jar, by virtue of its great durability, Mr. Carraway used as a receptacle for the family golf-balls, much to the trepidation of his good wife, who considered that the vase, like some women, had in its beauty a sufficient cause for existence, and who would have preferred going without golf forever to the destruction of her treasured bit of bric-
Then he flung the bill-file with its heterogeneous collection of receipted I.O.U.'s into his bulging suit case and called up Simon Meyer. "Simon," he said, "whatever I happen to have there there's a shotgun, I know, and a tennis racket and some fishing rods. . . . The rest for the moment I can't recall. . . . I want you to put all of it in a bundle and send it here at once by special messenger.
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