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Holmes, Oliver Wendell, 1809-1894

"The Professor at the Breakfast-Table"

That is what I say to myself, as I draw a chair to the
bedside. The bed is an old-fashioned, dark mahogany four-poster. It was
never that which made the noise of something moving. It is too heavy to
be pushed about the room.--The Little Gentleman was sitting, bolstered up
by pillows, with his hands clasped and their united palms resting on the
back of the head, one of the three or four positions specially affected
by persons whose breathing is difficult from disease of the heart or
other causes.
Sit down, Sir,--he said,--sit down! I have come to the hill Difficulty,
Sir, and am fighting my way up.--His speech was laborious and
interrupted.
Don't talk,--I said,--except to answer my questions.--And I proceeded to
"prospect" for the marks of some local mischief, which you know is at the
bottom of all these attacks, though we do not always find it. I suppose
I go to work pretty much like other professional folks of my temperament.
Thus:
Wrist, if you please.--I was on his right side, but he presented his left
wrist, crossing it over the other.


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