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Updated: June 23, 2025
On the Monday morning I called on him, and found him in his shop. "Mr. Snale," I said, "I have a word or two to say to you." "Certainly, sir. What a lovely day it is! I hope you are very well, sir. Will you come upstairs?" But I declined to go upstairs, as it was probable I might meet Mrs. Snale there.
Snale was reader, on the ground that I was a novice; and I was very glad to resign the task to him. As the business in hand was week-day and secular, it was not considered necessary that the selected subjects should be religious; but as it was distinctly connected with the chapel, it was also considered that they should have a religious flavour.
You would have said it was a libel, and you would also have said that a charge of that kind ought to be made publicly and not anonymously. You seem to think, nevertheless, that it is no sin to ruin me anonymously." "Mr. Rutherford, I AM sure I am your friend. I wish you well, sir, both here" and Mr. Snale tried to be very solemn "and in the world to come.
So I said that we had better go into the counting-house, a little place boxed off at the end of the shop, but with no door to it. As soon as we got in I began. "Mr. Snale, I have been much troubled by a letter which has appeared in last week's Sentinel. Although disguised, it evidently refers to me, and to be perfectly candid with you, I cannot help thinking you wrote it."
"That dish of which your excellency has eaten with so much relish," rejoined the waiter, "is snale patte, a dish so rare and savory that it is all eaten up: but if your excellency will be patient we will have some more prepared expressly for him."
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