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Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930

"The Stark Munro Letters"

Then, again, there are times when I can see that
my religious opinions annoy the dear old man. On the
whole, and for every reason, I think that it would be
better if I were out of this. I applied for several
steamship lines, and for at least a dozen house
surgeonships; but there is as much competition for a
miserable post with a hundred a year as if it were the
Viceroyship of India. As a rule, I simply get my
testimonials returned without any comment, which is the
sort of thing that teaches a man humility. Of course, it
is very pleasant to live with the mater, and my little
brother Paul is a regular trump. I am teaching him
boxing; and you should see him put his tiny fists up, and
counter with his right. He got me under the jaw this
evening, and I had to ask for poached eggs for supper.
And all this brings me up to the present time and the
latest news. It is that I had a telegram from
Cullingworth this morning--after nine months' silence.
It was dated from Avonmouth, the town where I had
suspected that he had settled, and it said simply, "Come
at once. I have urgent need of you. "CULLINGWORTH." Of
course, I shall go by the first train to-morrow. It may
mean anything or nothing. In my heart of hearts I hope
and believe that old Cullingworth sees an opening for me
either as his partner or in some other way. I always
believed that he would turn up trumps, and make my
fortune as well as his own.


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