He took a great liking to Falcon. That gentleman had the art of
pleasing, and the tact never to offend.
Falcon affected to treat the poor soul's want of memory as a common
infirmity; pretended he was himself very often troubled in the same way,
and advised him to read the newspapers. "My good wife," said he, "has
brought me a whole file of the Cape Gazette. I'd read them if I was you.
The deuce is in it, if you don't rake up something or other."
Christopher thanked him warmly for this: he got the papers to his own
little room, and had always one or two in his pocket for reading. At
first he found a good many hard words that puzzled him; and he borrowed
a pencil of Phoebe, and noted them down. Strange to say, the words that
puzzled him were always common words, that his unaccountable memory had
forgotten: a hard word, he was sure to remember that.
One day he had to ask Falcon the meaning of "spendthrift." Falcon told
him briefly. He could have illustrated the word by a striking example;
but he did not. He added, in his polite way, "No fellow can understand
all the words in a newspaper. Now, here's a word in mine--'Anemometer;'
who the deuce can understand such a word?"
"Oh, THAT is a common word enough," said poor Christopher.
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