One Must Wait Till It Comes.

We Had Got As Far As This, When Who Should Walk In But The Gentleman Himself, Who Had Been Drinking His Beer In The Taproom And Had Heard The Whole Conversation. Who Was I? What Did I Want? What Did I Mean By Asking Questions? He Had A Fine Flow Of Language, And His Adjectives Were Very Vigorous.

I Had ... Come To An Entirely Erroneous Conclusion, Which Shows, My Dear Watson, How Dangerous It Always Is To Reason From Insufficient Data.

Beyond The Obvious Facts That He Has At Some Time Done Manual Labour, That He Takes Snuff, That He Is A Freemason, That He Has Been In China, And That He Has Done A Considerable Amount Of Writing Lately, I Can Deduce Nothing Else.

Conceive A Jelly-fish Such As Sails In Our Summer Seas, Bell-shaped And Of Enormous Size - Far Larger, I Should Judge, Than The Dome Of St. Paul's. It Was Of A Light Pink Colour Veined With A Delicate Green, But The Whole Huge Fabric So Tenuous That It Was But A Fairy Outline Against The Dark Blue Sky. It Pulsated With A Delicate And Regular Rhythm. From It There Depended Two Long Drooping, Green Tentacles, Which Swayed Slowly Backwards And Forwards. This Gorgeous Vision Passed Gently With Noiseless Dignity Over My Head, As Light And Fragile As A Soap-bubble, And Drifted Upon Its Stately Way.

It Is The Sweetest Spring Within The Memory Of Man. So Green, So Mild, So Beautiful! Ah, What A Contrast Between Nature Without And My Own Soul So Torn With Doubt And Terror!