I seldom saw the new enthusiasm that did not grow as flimsy
and flaccid as the proselyte's moistened shirt-collar, with a quarter
of an hour's active labor under a July sun.
But the person now at hand had not at all the air of one of these
amiable visionaries. He was an elderly man, dressed rather shabbily,
yet decently enough, in a gray frock-coat, faded towards a brown hue,
and wore a broad-brimmed white hat, of the fashion of several years
gone by. His hair was perfect silver, without a dark thread in the
whole of it; his nose, though it had a scarlet tip, by no means
indicated the jollity of which a red nose is the generally admitted
symbol. He was a subdued, undemonstrative old man, who would
doubtless drink a glass of liquor, now and then, and probably more
than was good for him,--not, however, with a purpose of undue
exhilaration, but in the hope of bringing his spirits up to the
ordinary level of the world's cheerfulness. Drawing nearer, there
was a shy look about him, as if he were ashamed of his poverty, or,
at any rate, for some reason or other, would rather have us glance at
him sidelong than take a full front view. He had a queer appearance
of hiding himself behind the patch on his left eye.
"I know this old gentleman," said I to Hollingsworth, as we sat
observing him; "that is, I have met him a hundred times in town, and
have often amused my fancy with wondering what he was before he came
to be what he is. He haunts restaurants and such places, and has an
odd way of lurking in corners or getting behind a door whenever
practicable, and holding out his hand with some little article in it
which he wishes you to buy.
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