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Updated: June 18, 2025
Upon him I came suddenly, as he was calmly entering my cottage, his mind quite evidently bent on plunder: a man of about fifty, filthy, ragged, roguish, with a chimney-pot hat and a tail coat, and a pursing of his mouth that might have been envied by an elder of the kirk. He had just such a face as I have seen a dozen times behind the plate. "Hullo, sir!" I cried. "Where are you going?"
As I and Mary Quince returned from our walk that day, and had entered the hall, I was surprised most disagreeably by Dudley's emerging from the vestibule at the foot of the great staircase. He was, I suppose, in his travelling costume a rather soiled white surtout, a great coloured muffler in folds about his throat, his 'chimney-pot' on, and his fur cap sticking out from his pocket.
The Reed used to like the rain, but that was merely her selfishness." Then another drop fell. "What is the use of a statue if it cannot keep the rain off?" he said; "I must look for a good chimney-pot," and he determined to fly away. But before he had opened his wings, a third drop fell, and he looked up, and saw Ah! what did he see?
His stepfather had married a distant relative of mine who was afterward hanged; and so he seemed to think a blood relationship existed between us. He came in every day and sat down and talked. Of all the bland, serene human curiosities I ever saw, I think he was the chiefest. He desired to look at my new chimney-pot hat.
Men of good appearance, with black cloth coats, chimney-pot hats, patent-leather boots, highly-colored gloves, and diamond pins in their necktie bows; and women in loud, imposing toilets, with flounced dressed and headgear of the latest style; and Indians, also on the road to Europeanization in a way which bids fair to destroy every bit of local color in this central portion of the district of the Amazon!
The Alps have witnessed many strange sights since first they uplifted their heads to heaven. But it is calculated that the Patriarch was the first who brought under their notice the chimney-pot hat of the civilised Englishman. This haste to be up on the first morning was a faithful precursor of the indomitable vitality of the Patriarch.
We may have seen it again and again, with its bottle-shoulders and shining neck, sitting on the edge of a chimney-pot, and noted it as a bird with a full bosom and swift wings. But if we are not able to name it except vaguely as a "bird," we seem to be separated from it by an immense distance of ignorance.
I remembered the short ladder leaning against the low wall and felt sure he had arranged his criminal approach long before. "The collapse of the big chimney-pot ought to have been the culmination of my chaotic feelings; but, to tell the truth, it produced a sudden sense of comedy and even of comfort.
"Did you put the flowers there, Mr. Gibbon?" "I put them there every day. For you. I have been waiting for you to come to see them. Everything is always ready. You like it all?" "Yes, indeed." "It is yours, then. It is all for you. From cowl on the chimney-pot the kitchen-chimney smoked; I thought it would be inconvenient to the bunch of honeysuckle on the table. All yours." "Oh no, Mr. Gibbon."
If you watch the stars quietly for at least five minutes, you will see that they too are moving steadily on in the same way as the sun and moon. Watch one bright star coming out from behind a chimney-pot, and after about five minutes you will see that it has changed its place.
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