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Borrow, George Henry, 1803-1881

"The Romany Rye"

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"It is ten o'clock," said the old man; "I believe somewhat past."
"A quarter, perhaps?"
"Yes," said the old man "a quarter or--"
"Seven minutes, or ten minutes past ten."
"I do not understand you."
"Why, to tell you the truth," said the old man, with a smile,
"there is one thing to the knowledge of which I could never exactly
attain."
"Do you mean to say," said I, "that you do not know what's
o'clock?"
"I can give a guess," said the old man, "to within a few minutes."
"But you cannot tell the exact moment?"
"No," said the old man.
"In the name of wonder," said I, "with that thing there on the wall
continually ticking in your ear, how comes it that you do not know
what's o'clock?"
"Why," said the old man, "I have contented myself with giving a
tolerably good guess; to do more would have been too great
trouble."
"But you have learnt Chinese," said I.
"Yes," said the old man, "I have learnt Chinese."
"Well," said I, "I really would counsel you to learn to know what's
o'clock as soon as possible. Consider what a sad thing it would be
to go out of the world not knowing what's o'clock. A millionth
part of the trouble required to learn Chinese would, if employed,
infallibly teach you to know what's o'clock."
"I had a motive for learning Chinese," said the old man, "the hope
of appeasing the misery in my head.


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