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The Spouter-Inn

           boltedoutofitquickerthaneverIboltedadinner.

           Evenasitwas,Ithoughtsomethingofslippingoutofthewindow,butitwasthesecondfloorback.Iamnocoward,butwhattomakeofthisheadpeddlingpurplerascalaltogetherpassedmycomprehension.Ignoranceistheparentoffear,andbeingcompletelynonplussedandconfoundedaboutthestranger,IconfessIwasnowasmuchafraidofhimasifitwasthedevilhimselfwhohadthusbrokenintomyroomatthedeadofnight.Infact,IwassoafraidofhimthatIwasnotgameenoughjustthentoaddresshim,anddemandasatisfactoryanswerconcerningwhatseemedinexplicableinhim.

           Meanwhile,hecontinuedthebusinessofundressing,andatlastshowedhischestandarms.AsIlive,thesecoveredpartsofhimwerecheckeredwiththesamesquaresashisface,hisback,too,wasalloverthesamedarksquares;heseemedtohavebeeninaThirtyYears’War,andjustescapedfromitwithasticking-plastershirt.Stillmore,hisverylegsweremarked,asaparcelofdarkgreenfrogswererunningupthetrunksofyoungpalms.ItwasnowquiteplainthathemustbesomeabominablesavageorothershippedaboardofawhalemanintheSouthSeas,andsolandedinthisChristiancountry.Iquakedtothinkofit.Apeddlerofheadstooperhapstheheadsofhisownbrothers.Hemighttakeafancytomineheavens!lookatthattomahawk!

           Buttherewasnotimeforshuddering,fornowthesavagewentaboutsomethingthatcompletelyfascinatedmyattention,andconvincedmethathemustindeedbeaheathen.Goingtohisheavygrego,orwrapall,ordreadnaught,whichhehadpreviouslyhungonachair,hefumbledinthepockets,andproducedatlengthacuriouslittledeformedimagewithahunchonitsback,andexactlythecolorofathreedays’oldCongobaby.Rememberingtheembalmedhead,atfirstIalmostthoughtthatthisblack

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