that little item at once.

"How would a bar-tender's business suit you? There is no trying of the
eye-sight in that."

"I would not like it at all; though, as I said before, I am not
particular."

His unwonted wordiness inspirited me. I returned to the charge.

"Well, then, would you like to travel through the country collecting
bills for the merchants? That would improve your health."

"No, I would prefer to be doing something else."

"How, then, would going as a companion to Europe, to entertain some
young gentleman with your conversation--how would that suit you?"

"Not at all. It does not strike me that there is anything definite about
that. I like to be stationary. But I am not particular."

"Stationary you shall be, then," I cried, now losing all patience, and,
for the first time in all my exasperating connection with him, fairly
flying into a passion. "If you do not go away from these premises
before night, I shall feel bound--indeed, I _am_ bound--to--to--to quit
the premises myself!" I rather absurdly concluded, knowing not with what
possible threat to try to frighten his immobility into compliance.
Despairing of all further efforts, I was precipitately leaving him, when
a final thought occurred to me--one which had not been wholly unindulged
before.