The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939, 1905-05-24


Holmes was that, altho in his methods
of thought he was the neatest and most ,
methodical of mankind, and altho also
he affected a certain quiet primness of
DRESS he was none the less in his per-
dress, he was none the less in his per-
men that ever drove a fellow ledger to
distraction. Not that l am in the least
conventional in that respect myself.
The gh-and-tumble work in Afghan
istan, coming on the top of natural
Bohemianism Of disposition, has made
me rather more lax than BELTS medi-
cal man. But with me there is limit,
and when I find man who keeps his
cigars in the coalscuttle, his tobacco in
the toe end of a Persian slipper, and his
unanswered correspondence transiXed
by a iackknife into the very center OF
his wooden mantelpiece, then | begin
to give myself virtuous airs. I have
always held, too, that pistol practice
should be distinctly an open-air pas
time; and when Holmes, in one of his
queer humors, would sit in an armchair
with his hair-trigger and hundred
Boxer cartridge, and proceed to ador.n
the opposite wall with a patriotic V. r.
done in bullet-pocks, I felt strongly
that neither the atmosphere nor the ap
pearance of our room was improved
by it,
Our chambers were always full of
chemicals and of criminal relics which
had way of wandering into unlikely
positions, and of turning up in the but
terdish or in even less desirable places.
But his papers were my great crux. He
had horror of destroying documents,
especially those which were connected
with his past cases, and yet is was only
once in every year or two that he would
muster energy to docket and arrange
them; for, as I have mentioned some
where in those incoherent memoirs, the
outbursts of passionate energy when he
performed the remarkable feats with
which his name is associated were fol-
lowed by reactions of lethargy during
which he would lie about with his vio-
lin and his books, hardly moving save
from the sofa to the table. Thus
month after month his papers accumu-
lated, until every corner Of the room
was stacked with bundles of manu-
scri pit which were on no account to be
burned, and which could not be put
away save by their owner. One win
ter's night, as we sat together by the
fire, ventured to suggest to him that,
as he had finished pasting extracts into
his commonplace book, he might en-
ploy the next two hours in making our
Ia bob HI {o1 HI
not deny the Justice of my request, so
with a rather rueful face he went off to
his bedroom, from which he returned
presently pulling large tin box behind
him. This he placed in the middle of
the floor, and, squatting down upon a
stool in front Of it, he threw back the
lid. I could see that it was already a
third full of bundles of paper tied up
with red tape into separate packages.
''There are cases enough here, Wat
son. said he, looking at me with mis-
chievous eyes. II think that if you
knew all that I had in this box you
would ask me to pull some out instead
Of putting others in.'
'These are the records of your early
work, then?' I asked. IT have often
wished that I had notes of those
cases.
eyes, my boy, these were all done
prematurely before my biographer ha6
come to glorify me- He lifted bundle
after bundle in a tender, caressing sort
of way. "They are not all successes
Watson,' said he. "But there are
some pretty little problems among
them. Here IS the record of the Tarle.
ton murders, and the case of Vamberry
the wine merchant, and the adventure
of the old Russian woman, and the sin,
gular affair of the aluminium crutch, az
we'll as full account of Ricoletti OF
the club-foot, and his abominable wife
And here-ah, now, this really is some
thing a little recherche''
He dived his arm down to the bottom
of the chest, and brought up small
wooden box with sliding lid, such az
children s toys are kept in. From with
in he produced a crumpled piece of pa
per, an old-fashioned brass key, a pes
Of wood with ball of string attached
to it, and three rusty old disks of metal
We'll, my boy, what do you make o.
this lot?' he asked, smiling at my ex
preston.
1T is a curious collection' r. :
Very. curious, and the story tina
hangs round it will strike you as bein,
more curious still.'' ...-
"These relics have history, then?'
$50 much so that they are history. ,
What do you mean by that?'
Sherlock Holmes picked them up on
by one, and laid them along the edge O
the table. Then he reseated himself il
his chair and looked them over with
CLEAN of satisfaction in his eyes.
"These,' said he, care all that
have left to remind me of the adven
ture of the Musgrave Ritual. I"
I had heard him mention the cas-
more than once, tho had never bee
able to gather the details. IT shout.
be so glad,' said I, eff you would Civ
me an account of it..
~. = And leave the litter as it is?'' b
cried, mischievously. Your tidines
won t bear much strain after all, Wat
son. But I should be glad that yo1
should add this case to your annals, 70
there are points in it which make i