I was fumbling in my pocket for a little change wherewith to dismiss
him,--for that is usually the easiest way of getting off your premises
and your conscience the applicant for "aid," who is probably an
impostor, yet possibly not,--when my eye caught the words (for I still
held the document), "would be glad of any employment which may help to
pay his way." The idea of finding employment for a man of such a large
nose and little body, such extensive knowledge and diminutive legs--who
had mastered five languages yet could not speak or understand a word of
any one of them,--struck me as rather pleasant, to say the least; yet,
after a moment's reflection,--wasn't he the very thing I wanted, the
manikin, the target for my uncle?

Meanwhile he was scribbling rapidly on a small slate he had taken from
his pocket. With another bow (as if he had written something wrong and
was going to wipe it out with his nose), he handed me the slate, on
which I found written in a neat hand half-a-dozen lines in as many
different languages,--English, Latin, Hebrew, German, French,
Greek,--each, as far as I could make out, conveying the cheerful
information that he could communicate with me in that particular tongue.
I tried him in English, French, and Latin, and I must acknowledge that
he stood the test; he then tried me In Greek and Hebrew, and I as freely
confess that I didn't stand the test. He smiled intelligently, nodded,
and condescendingly returned to the English tongue, writing quickly,--"I
am a poor exile from Fatherland, and I much need friends."

I wrote: "You wish employment?" He replied: "I shall be much obliged for
any service I shall be capable to do,"--and passed me the slate with a
hopeful smile.

"What can you do?" I asked. He answered: "I copy the manuscripts, I