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sherlock-nul.txt  (ripgrep-12.1.1):sherlock-nul.txt  (ripgrep-13.0.0)
skipping to change at line 214 skipping to change at line 214
"Yes, but it may be pushed to excess. When it comes to beating the "Yes, but it may be pushed to excess. When it comes to beating the
subjects in the dissecting-rooms with a stick, it is certainly taking subjects in the dissecting-rooms with a stick, it is certainly taking
rather a bizarre shape." rather a bizarre shape."
"Beating the subjects!" "Beating the subjects!"
"Yes, to verify how far bruises may be produced after death. I saw him "Yes, to verify how far bruises may be produced after death. I saw him
at it with my own eyes." at it with my own eyes."
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
Title: A Study In Scarlet
Author: Arthur Conan Doyle
Posting Date: July 12, 2008 [EBook #244]
Release Date: April, 1995
[Last updated: February 17, 2013]
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A STUDY IN SCARLET ***
Produced by Roger Squires
A STUDY IN SCARLET.
By A. Conan Doyle
[1]
Original Transcriber's Note: This etext is prepared directly
from an 1887 edition, and care has been taken to duplicate the
original exactly, including typographical and punctuation
vagaries.
Additions to the text include adding the underscore character to
indicate italics, and textual end-notes in square braces.
Project Gutenberg Editor's Note: In reproofing and moving old PG
files such as this to the present PG directory system it is the
policy to reformat the text to conform to present PG Standards.
In this case however, in consideration of the note above of the
original transcriber describing his care to try to duplicate the
original 1887 edition as to typography and punctuation vagaries,
no changes have been made in this ascii text file. However, in
the Latin-1 file and this html file, present standards are
followed and the several French and Spanish words have been
given their proper accents.
Part II, The Country of the Saints, deals much with the Mormon Church.
A STUDY IN SCARLET.
PART I.
(_Being a reprint from the reminiscences of_ JOHN H. WATSON, M.D., _late
of the Army Medical Department._) [2]
CHAPTER I. MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES.
IN the year 1878 I took my degree of Doctor of Medicine of the
University of London, and proceeded to Netley to go through the course
prescribed for surgeons in the army. Having completed my studies there,
I was duly attached to the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers as Assistant
Surgeon. The regiment was stationed in India at the time, and before
I could join it, the second Afghan war had broken out. On landing at
Bombay, I learned that my corps had advanced through the passes, and
was already deep in the enemy's country. I followed, however, with many
other officers who were in the same situation as myself, and succeeded
in reaching Candahar in safety, where I found my regiment, and at once
entered upon my new duties.
The campaign brought honours and promotion to many, but for me it had
nothing but misfortune and disaster. I was removed from my brigade and
attached to the Berkshires, with whom I served at the fatal battle of
Maiwand. There I was struck on the shoulder by a Jezail bullet, which
shattered the bone and grazed the subclavian artery. I should have
fallen into the hands of the murderous Ghazis had it not been for the
devotion and courage shown by Murray, my orderly, who threw me across a
pack-horse, and succeeded in bringing me safely to the British lines.
Worn with pain, and weak from the prolonged hardships which I had
undergone, I was removed, with a great train of wounded sufferers, to
the base hospital at Peshawar. Here I rallied, and had already improved
so far as to be able to walk about the wards, and even to bask a little
upon the verandah, when I was struck down by enteric fever, that curse
of our Indian possessions. For months my life was despaired of, and
when at last I came to myself and became convalescent, I was so weak and
emaciated that a medical board determined that not a day should be lost
in sending me back to England. I was dispatched, accordingly, in the
troopship "Orontes," and landed a month later on Portsmouth jetty, with
my health irretrievably ruined, but with permission from a paternal
government to spend the next nine months in attempting to improve it.
I had neither kith nor kin in England, and was therefore as free as
air--or as free as an income of eleven shillings and sixpence a day will
permit a man to be. Under such circumstances, I naturally gravitated to
London, that great cesspool into which all the loungers and idlers of
the Empire are irresistibly drained. There I stayed for some time at
a private hotel in the Strand, leading a comfortless, meaningless
existence, and spending such money as I had, considerably more freely
than I ought. So alarming did the state of my finances become, that
I soon realized that I must either leave the metropolis and rusticate
somewhere in the country, or that I must make a complete alteration in
my style of living. Choosing the latter alternative, I began by making
up my mind to leave the hotel, and to take up my quarters in some less
pretentious and less expensive domicile.
On the very day that I had come to this conclusion, I was standing at
the Criterion Bar, when some one tapped me on the shoulder, and turning
round I recognized young Stamford, who had been a dresser under me at
Barts. The sight of a friendly face in the great wilderness of London is
a pleasant thing indeed to a lonely man. In old days Stamford had never
been a particular crony of mine, but now I hailed him with enthusiasm,
and he, in his turn, appeared to be delighted to see me. In the
exuberance of my joy, I asked him to lunch with me at the Holborn, and
we started off together in a hansom.
"Whatever have you been doing with yourself, Watson?" he asked in
undisguised wonder, as we rattled through the crowded London streets.
"You are as thin as a lath and as brown as a nut."
I gave him a short sketch of my adventures, and had hardly concluded it
by the time that we reached our destination.
"Poor devil!" he said, commiseratingly, after he had listened to my
misfortunes. "What are you up to now?"
"Looking for lodgings." [3] I answered. "Trying to solve the problem
as to whether it is possible to get comfortable rooms at a reasonable
price."
"That's a strange thing," remarked my companion; "you are the second man
to-day that has used that expression to me."
"And who was the first?" I asked.
"A fellow who is working at the chemical laboratory up at the hospital.
He was bemoaning himself this morning because he could not get someone
to go halves with him in some nice rooms which he had found, and which
were too much for his purse."
"By Jove!" I cried, "if he really wants someone to share the rooms and
the expense, I am the very man for him. I should prefer having a partner
to being alone."
Young Stamford looked rather strangely at me over his wine-glass. "You
don't know Sherlock Holmes yet," he said; "perhaps you would not care
for him as a constant companion."
"Why, what is there against him?"
"Oh, I didn't say there was anything against him. He is a little queer
in his ideas--an enthusiast in some branches of science. As far as I
know he is a decent fellow enough."
"A medical student, I suppose?" said I.
"No--I have no idea what he intends to go in for. I believe he is well
up in anatomy, and he is a first-class chemist; but, as far as I know,
he has never taken out any systematic medical classes. His studies are
very desultory and eccentric, but he has amassed a lot of out-of-the way
knowledge which would astonish his professors."
"Did you never ask him what he was going in for?" I asked.
"No; he is not a man that it is easy to draw out, though he can be
communicative enough when the fancy seizes him."
"I should like to meet him," I said. "If I am to lodge with anyone, I
should prefer a man of studious and quiet habits. I am not strong
enough yet to stand much noise or excitement. I had enough of both in
Afghanistan to last me for the remainder of my natural existence. How
could I meet this friend of yours?"
"He is sure to be at the laboratory," returned my companion. "He either
avoids the place for weeks, or else he works there from morning to
night. If you like, we shall drive round together after luncheon."
"Certainly," I answered, and the conversation drifted away into other
channels.
As we made our way to the hospital after leaving the Holborn, Stamford
gave me a few more particulars about the gentleman whom I proposed to
take as a fellow-lodger.
"You mustn't blame me if you don't get on with him," he said; "I know
nothing more of him than I have learned from meeting him occasionally in
the laboratory. You proposed this arrangement, so you must not hold me
responsible."
"If we don't get on it will be easy to part company," I answered. "It
seems to me, Stamford," I added, looking hard at my companion, "that you
have some reason for washing your hands of the matter. Is this fellow's
temper so formidable, or what is it? Don't be mealy-mouthed about it."
"It is not easy to express the inexpressible," he answered with a laugh.
"Holmes is a little too scientific for my tastes--it approaches to
cold-bloodedness. I could imagine his giving a friend a little pinch of
the latest vegetable alkaloid, not out of malevolence, you understand,
but simply out of a spirit of inquiry in order to have an accurate idea
of the effects. To do him justice, I think that he would take it himself
with the same readiness. He appears to have a passion for definite and
exact knowledge."
"Very right too."
"Yes, but it may be pushed to excess. When it comes to beating the
subjects in the dissecting-rooms with a stick, it is certainly taking
rather a bizarre shape."
"Beating the subjects!"
"Yes, to verify how far bruises may be produced after death. I saw him
at it with my own eyes."
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
Title: A Study In Scarlet
Author: Arthur Conan Doyle
Posting Date: July 12, 2008 [EBook #244]
Release Date: April, 1995
[Last updated: February 17, 2013]
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A STUDY IN SCARLET ***
Produced by Roger Squires
A STUDY IN SCARLET.
By A. Conan Doyle
[1]
Original Transcriber's Note: This etext is prepared directly
from an 1887 edition, and care has been taken to duplicate the
original exactly, including typographical and punctuation
vagaries.
Additions to the text include adding the underscore character to
indicate italics, and textual end-notes in square braces.
Project Gutenberg Editor's Note: In reproofing and moving old PG
files such as this to the present PG directory system it is the
policy to reformat the text to conform to present PG Standards.
In this case however, in consideration of the note above of the
original transcriber describing his care to try to duplicate the
original 1887 edition as to typography and punctuation vagaries,
no changes have been made in this ascii text file. However, in
the Latin-1 file and this html file, present standards are
followed and the several French and Spanish words have been
given their proper accents.
Part II, The Country of the Saints, deals much with the Mormon Church.
A STUDY IN SCARLET.
PART I.
(_Being a reprint from the reminiscences of_ JOHN H. WATSON, M.D., _late
of the Army Medical Department._) [2]
CHAPTER I. MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES.
IN the year 1878 I took my degree of Doctor of Medicine of the
University of London, and proceeded to Netley to go through the course
prescribed for surgeons in the army. Having completed my studies there,
I was duly attached to the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers as Assistant
Surgeon. The regiment was stationed in India at the time, and before
I could join it, the second Afghan war had broken out. On landing at
Bombay, I learned that my corps had advanced through the passes, and
was already deep in the enemy's country. I followed, however, with many
other officers who were in the same situation as myself, and succeeded
in reaching Candahar in safety, where I found my regiment, and at once
entered upon my new duties.
The campaign brought honours and promotion to many, but for me it had
nothing but misfortune and disaster. I was removed from my brigade and
attached to the Berkshires, with whom I served at the fatal battle of
Maiwand. There I was struck on the shoulder by a Jezail bullet, which
shattered the bone and grazed the subclavian artery. I should have
fallen into the hands of the murderous Ghazis had it not been for the
devotion and courage shown by Murray, my orderly, who threw me across a
pack-horse, and succeeded in bringing me safely to the British lines.
Worn with pain, and weak from the prolonged hardships which I had
undergone, I was removed, with a great train of wounded sufferers, to
the base hospital at Peshawar. Here I rallied, and had already improved
so far as to be able to walk about the wards, and even to bask a little
upon the verandah, when I was struck down by enteric fever, that curse
of our Indian possessions. For months my life was despaired of, and
when at last I came to myself and became convalescent, I was so weak and
emaciated that a medical board determined that not a day should be lost
in sending me back to England. I was dispatched, accordingly, in the
troopship "Orontes," and landed a month later on Portsmouth jetty, with
my health irretrievably ruined, but with permission from a paternal
government to spend the next nine months in attempting to improve it.
I had neither kith nor kin in England, and was therefore as free as
air--or as free as an income of eleven shillings and sixpence a day will
permit a man to be. Under such circumstances, I naturally gravitated to
London, that great cesspool into which all the loungers and idlers of
the Empire are irresistibly drained. There I stayed for some time at
a private hotel in the Strand, leading a comfortless, meaningless
existence, and spending such money as I had, considerably more freely
than I ought. So alarming did the state of my finances become, that
I soon realized that I must either leave the metropolis and rusticate
somewhere in the country, or that I must make a complete alteration in
my style of living. Choosing the latter alternative, I began by making
up my mind to leave the hotel, and to take up my quarters in some less
pretentious and less expensive domicile.
On the very day that I had come to this conclusion, I was standing at
the Criterion Bar, when some one tapped me on the shoulder, and turning
round I recognized young Stamford, who had been a dresser under me at
Barts. The sight of a friendly face in the great wilderness of London is
a pleasant thing indeed to a lonely man. In old days Stamford had never
been a particular crony of mine, but now I hailed him with enthusiasm,
and he, in his turn, appeared to be delighted to see me. In the
exuberance of my joy, I asked him to lunch with me at the Holborn, and
we started off together in a hansom.
"Whatever have you been doing with yourself, Watson?" he asked in
undisguised wonder, as we rattled through the crowded London streets.
"You are as thin as a lath and as brown as a nut."
I gave him a short sketch of my adventures, and had hardly concluded it
by the time that we reached our destination.
"Poor devil!" he said, commiseratingly, after he had listened to my
misfortunes. "What are you up to now?"
"Looking for lodgings." [3] I answered. "Trying to solve the problem
as to whether it is possible to get comfortable rooms at a reasonable
price."
"That's a strange thing," remarked my companion; "you are the second man
to-day that has used that expression to me."
"And who was the first?" I asked.
"A fellow who is working at the chemical laboratory up at the hospital.
He was bemoaning himself this morning because he could not get someone
to go halves with him in some nice rooms which he had found, and which
were too much for his purse."
"By Jove!" I cried, "if he really wants someone to share the rooms and
the expense, I am the very man for him. I should prefer having a partner
to being alone."
Young Stamford looked rather strangely at me over his wine-glass. "You
don't know Sherlock Holmes yet," he said; "perhaps you would not care
for him as a constant companion."
"Why, what is there against him?"
"Oh, I didn't say there was anything against him. He is a little queer
in his ideas--an enthusiast in some branches of science. As far as I
know he is a decent fellow enough."
"A medical student, I suppose?" said I.
"No--I have no idea what he intends to go in for. I believe he is well
up in anatomy, and he is a first-class chemist; but, as far as I know,
he has never taken out any systematic medical classes. His studies are
very desultory and eccentric, but he has amassed a lot of out-of-the way
knowledge which would astonish his professors."
"Did you never ask him what he was going in for?" I asked.
"No; he is not a man that it is easy to draw out, though he can be
communicative enough when the fancy seizes him."
"I should like to meet him," I said. "If I am to lodge with anyone, I
should prefer a man of studious and quiet habits. I am not strong
enough yet to stand much noise or excitement. I had enough of both in
Afghanistan to last me for the remainder of my natural existence. How
could I meet this friend of yours?"
"He is sure to be at the laboratory," returned my companion. "He either
avoids the place for weeks, or else he works there from morning to
night. If you like, we shall drive round together after luncheon."
"Certainly," I answered, and the conversation drifted away into other
channels.
As we made our way to the hospital after leaving the Holborn, Stamford
gave me a few more particulars about the gentleman whom I proposed to
take as a fellow-lodger.
"You mustn't blame me if you don't get on with him," he said; "I know
nothing more of him than I have learned from meeting him occasionally in
the laboratory. You proposed this arrangement, so you must not hold me
responsible."
"If we don't get on it will be easy to part company," I answered. "It
seems to me, Stamford," I added, looking hard at my companion, "that you
have some reason for washing your hands of the matter. Is this fellow's
temper so formidable, or what is it? Don't be mealy-mouthed about it."
"It is not easy to express the inexpressible," he answered with a laugh.
"Holmes is a little too scientific for my tastes--it approaches to
cold-bloodedness. I could imagine his giving a friend a little pinch of
the latest vegetable alkaloid, not out of malevolence, you understand,
but simply out of a spirit of inquiry in order to have an accurate idea
of the effects. To do him justice, I think that he would take it himself
with the same readiness. He appears to have a passion for definite and
exact knowledge."
"Very right too."
"Yes, but it may be pushed to excess. When it comes to beating the
subjects in the dissecting-rooms with a stick, it is certainly taking
rather a bizarre shape."
"Beating the subjects!"
"Yes, to verify how far bruises may be produced after death. I saw him
at it with my own eyes."
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
Title: A Study In Scarlet
Author: Arthur Conan Doyle
Posting Date: July 12, 2008 [EBook #244]
Release Date: April, 1995
[Last updated: February 17, 2013]
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A STUDY IN SCARLET ***
Produced by Roger Squires
A STUDY IN SCARLET.
By A. Conan Doyle
[1]
Original Transcriber's Note: This etext is prepared directly
from an 1887 edition, and care has been taken to duplicate the
original exactly, including typographical and punctuation
vagaries.
Additions to the text include adding the underscore character to
indicate italics, and textual end-notes in square braces.
Project Gutenberg Editor's Note: In reproofing and moving old PG
files such as this to the present PG directory system it is the
policy to reformat the text to conform to present PG Standards.
In this case however, in consideration of the note above of the
original transcriber describing his care to try to duplicate the
original 1887 edition as to typography and punctuation vagaries,
no changes have been made in this ascii text file. However, in
the Latin-1 file and this html file, present standards are
followed and the several French and Spanish words have been
given their proper accents.
Part II, The Country of the Saints, deals much with the Mormon Church.
A STUDY IN SCARLET.
PART I.
(_Being a reprint from the reminiscences of_ JOHN H. WATSON, M.D., _late
of the Army Medical Department._) [2]
CHAPTER I. MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES.
IN the year 1878 I took my degree of Doctor of Medicine of the
University of London, and proceeded to Netley to go through the course
prescribed for surgeons in the army. Having completed my studies there,
I was duly attached to the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers as Assistant
Surgeon. The regiment was stationed in India at the time, and before
I could join it, the second Afghan war had broken out. On landing at
Bombay, I learned that my corps had advanced through the passes, and
was already deep in the enemy's country. I followed, however, with many
other officers who were in the same situation as myself, and succeeded
in reaching Candahar in safety, where I found my regiment, and at once
entered upon my new duties.
The campaign brought honours and promotion to many, but for me it had
nothing but misfortune and disaster. I was removed from my brigade and
attached to the Berkshires, with whom I served at the fatal battle of
Maiwand. There I was struck on the shoulder by a Jezail bullet, which
shattered the bone and grazed the subclavian artery. I should have
fallen into the hands of the murderous Ghazis had it not been for the
devotion and courage shown by Murray, my orderly, who threw me across a
pack-horse, and succeeded in bringing me safely to the British lines.
Worn with pain, and weak from the prolonged hardships which I had
undergone, I was removed, with a great train of wounded sufferers, to
the base hospital at Peshawar. Here I rallied, and had already improved
so far as to be able to walk about the wards, and even to bask a little
upon the verandah, when I was struck down by enteric fever, that curse
of our Indian possessions. For months my life was despaired of, and
when at last I came to myself and became convalescent, I was so weak and
emaciated that a medical board determined that not a day should be lost
in sending me back to England. I was dispatched, accordingly, in the
troopship "Orontes," and landed a month later on Portsmouth jetty, with
my health irretrievably ruined, but with permission from a paternal
government to spend the next nine months in attempting to improve it.
I had neither kith nor kin in England, and was therefore as free as
air--or as free as an income of eleven shillings and sixpence a day will
permit a man to be. Under such circumstances, I naturally gravitated to
London, that great cesspool into which all the loungers and idlers of
the Empire are irresistibly drained. There I stayed for some time at
a private hotel in the Strand, leading a comfortless, meaningless
existence, and spending such money as I had, considerably more freely
than I ought. So alarming did the state of my finances become, that
I soon realized that I must either leave the metropolis and rusticate
somewhere in the country, or that I must make a complete alteration in
my style of living. Choosing the latter alternative, I began by making
up my mind to leave the hotel, and to take up my quarters in some less
pretentious and less expensive domicile.
On the very day that I had come to this conclusion, I was standing at
the Criterion Bar, when some one tapped me on the shoulder, and turning
round I recognized young Stamford, who had been a dresser under me at
Barts. The sight of a friendly face in the great wilderness of London is
a pleasant thing indeed to a lonely man. In old days Stamford had never
been a particular crony of mine, but now I hailed him with enthusiasm,
and he, in his turn, appeared to be delighted to see me. In the
exuberance of my joy, I asked him to lunch with me at the Holborn, and
we started off together in a hansom.
"Whatever have you been doing with yourself, Watson?" he asked in
undisguised wonder, as we rattled through the crowded London streets.
"You are as thin as a lath and as brown as a nut."
I gave him a short sketch of my adventures, and had hardly concluded it
by the time that we reached our destination.
"Poor devil!" he said, commiseratingly, after he had listened to my
misfortunes. "What are you up to now?"
"Looking for lodgings." [3] I answered. "Trying to solve the problem
as to whether it is possible to get comfortable rooms at a reasonable
price."
"That's a strange thing," remarked my companion; "you are the second man
to-day that has used that expression to me."
"And who was the first?" I asked.
"A fellow who is working at the chemical laboratory up at the hospital.
He was bemoaning himself this morning because he could not get someone
to go halves with him in some nice rooms which he had found, and which
were too much for his purse."
"By Jove!" I cried, "if he really wants someone to share the rooms and
the expense, I am the very man for him. I should prefer having a partner
to being alone."
Young Stamford looked rather strangely at me over his wine-glass. "You
don't know Sherlock Holmes yet," he said; "perhaps you would not care
for him as a constant companion."
"Why, what is there against him?"
"Oh, I didn't say there was anything against him. He is a little queer
in his ideas--an enthusiast in some branches of science. As far as I
know he is a decent fellow enough."
"A medical student, I suppose?" said I.
"No--I have no idea what he intends to go in for. I believe he is well
up in anatomy, and he is a first-class chemist; but, as far as I know,
he has never taken out any systematic medical classes. His studies are
very desultory and eccentric, but he has amassed a lot of out-of-the way
knowledge which would astonish his professors."
"Did you never ask him what he was going in for?" I asked.
"No; he is not a man that it is easy to draw out, though he can be
communicative enough when the fancy seizes him."
"I should like to meet him," I said. "If I am to lodge with anyone, I
should prefer a man of studious and quiet habits. I am not strong
enough yet to stand much noise or excitement. I had enough of both in
Afghanistan to last me for the remainder of my natural existence. How
could I meet this friend of yours?"
"He is sure to be at the laboratory," returned my companion. "He either
avoids the place for weeks, or else he works there from morning to
night. If you like, we shall drive round together after luncheon."
"Certainly," I answered, and the conversation drifted away into other
channels.
As we made our way to the hospital after leaving the Holborn, Stamford
gave me a few more particulars about the gentleman whom I proposed to
take as a fellow-lodger.
"You mustn't blame me if you don't get on with him," he said; "I know
nothing more of him than I have learned from meeting him occasionally in
the laboratory. You proposed this arrangement, so you must not hold me
responsible."
"If we don't get on it will be easy to part company," I answered. "It
seems to me, Stamford," I added, looking hard at my companion, "that you
have some reason for washing your hands of the matter. Is this fellow's
temper so formidable, or what is it? Don't be mealy-mouthed about it."
"It is not easy to express the inexpressible," he answered with a laugh.
"Holmes is a little too scientific for my tastes--it approaches to
cold-bloodedness. I could imagine his giving a friend a little pinch of
the latest vegetable alkaloid, not out of malevolence, you understand,
but simply out of a spirit of inquiry in order to have an accurate idea
of the effects. To do him justice, I think that he would take it himself
with the same readiness. He appears to have a passion for definite and
exact knowledge."
"Very right too."
"Yes, but it may be pushed to excess. When it comes to beating the
subjects in the dissecting-rooms with a stick, it is certainly taking
rather a bizarre shape."
"Beating the subjects!"
"Yes, to verify how far bruises may be produced after death. I saw him
at it with my own eyes."
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
Title: A Study In Scarlet
Author: Arthur Conan Doyle
Posting Date: July 12, 2008 [EBook #244]
Release Date: April, 1995
[Last updated: February 17, 2013]
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A STUDY IN SCARLET ***
Produced by Roger Squires
A STUDY IN SCARLET.
By A. Conan Doyle
[1]
Original Transcriber's Note: This etext is prepared directly
from an 1887 edition, and care has been taken to duplicate the
original exactly, including typographical and punctuation
vagaries.
Additions to the text include adding the underscore character to
indicate italics, and textual end-notes in square braces.
Project Gutenberg Editor's Note: In reproofing and moving old PG
files such as this to the present PG directory system it is the
policy to reformat the text to conform to present PG Standards.
In this case however, in consideration of the note above of the
original transcriber describing his care to try to duplicate the
original 1887 edition as to typography and punctuation vagaries,
no changes have been made in this ascii text file. However, in
the Latin-1 file and this html file, present standards are
followed and the several French and Spanish words have been
given their proper accents.
Part II, The Country of the Saints, deals much with the Mormon Church.
A STUDY IN SCARLET.
PART I.
(_Being a reprint from the reminiscences of_ JOHN H. WATSON, M.D., _late
of the Army Medical Department._) [2]
CHAPTER I. MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES.
IN the year 1878 I took my degree of Doctor of Medicine of the
University of London, and proceeded to Netley to go through the course
prescribed for surgeons in the army. Having completed my studies there,
I was duly attached to the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers as Assistant
Surgeon. The regiment was stationed in India at the time, and before
I could join it, the second Afghan war had broken out. On landing at
Bombay, I learned that my corps had advanced through the passes, and
was already deep in the enemy's country. I followed, however, with many
other officers who were in the same situation as myself, and succeeded
in reaching Candahar in safety, where I found my regiment, and at once
entered upon my new duties.
The campaign brought honours and promotion to many, but for me it had
nothing but misfortune and disaster. I was removed from my brigade and
attached to the Berkshires, with whom I served at the fatal battle of
Maiwand. There I was struck on the shoulder by a Jezail bullet, which
shattered the bone and grazed the subclavian artery. I should have
fallen into the hands of the murderous Ghazis had it not been for the
devotion and courage shown by Murray, my orderly, who threw me across a
pack-horse, and succeeded in bringing me safely to the British lines.
Worn with pain, and weak from the prolonged hardships which I had
undergone, I was removed, with a great train of wounded sufferers, to
the base hospital at Peshawar. Here I rallied, and had already improved
so far as to be able to walk about the wards, and even to bask a little
upon the verandah, when I was struck down by enteric fever, that curse
of our Indian possessions. For months my life was despaired of, and
when at last I came to myself and became convalescent, I was so weak and
emaciated that a medical board determined that not a day should be lost
in sending me back to England. I was dispatched, accordingly, in the
troopship "Orontes," and landed a month later on Portsmouth jetty, with
my health irretrievably ruined, but with permission from a paternal
government to spend the next nine months in attempting to improve it.
I had neither kith nor kin in England, and was therefore as free as
air--or as free as an income of eleven shillings and sixpence a day will
permit a man to be. Under such circumstances, I naturally gravitated to
London, that great cesspool into which all the loungers and idlers of
the Empire are irresistibly drained. There I stayed for some time at
a private hotel in the Strand, leading a comfortless, meaningless
existence, and spending such money as I had, considerably more freely
than I ought. So alarming did the state of my finances become, that
I soon realized that I must either leave the metropolis and rusticate
somewhere in the country, or that I must make a complete alteration in
my style of living. Choosing the latter alternative, I began by making
up my mind to leave the hotel, and to take up my quarters in some less
pretentious and less expensive domicile.
On the very day that I had come to this conclusion, I was standing at
the Criterion Bar, when some one tapped me on the shoulder, and turning
round I recognized young Stamford, who had been a dresser under me at
Barts. The sight of a friendly face in the great wilderness of London is
a pleasant thing indeed to a lonely man. In old days Stamford had never
been a particular crony of mine, but now I hailed him with enthusiasm,
and he, in his turn, appeared to be delighted to see me. In the
exuberance of my joy, I asked him to lunch with me at the Holborn, and
we started off together in a hansom.
"Whatever have you been doing with yourself, Watson?" he asked in
undisguised wonder, as we rattled through the crowded London streets.
"You are as thin as a lath and as brown as a nut."
I gave him a short sketch of my adventures, and had hardly concluded it
by the time that we reached our destination.
"Poor devil!" he said, commiseratingly, after he had listened to my
misfortunes. "What are you up to now?"
"Looking for lodgings." [3] I answered. "Trying to solve the problem
as to whether it is possible to get comfortable rooms at a reasonable
price."
"That's a strange thing," remarked my companion; "you are the second man
to-day that has used that expression to me."
"And who was the first?" I asked.
"A fellow who is working at the chemical laboratory up at the hospital.
He was bemoaning himself this morning because he could not get someone
to go halves with him in some nice rooms which he had found, and which
were too much for his purse."
"By Jove!" I cried, "if he really wants someone to share the rooms and
the expense, I am the very man for him. I should prefer having a partner
to being alone."
Young Stamford looked rather strangely at me over his wine-glass. "You
don't know Sherlock Holmes yet," he said; "perhaps you would not care
for him as a constant companion."
"Why, what is there against him?"
"Oh, I didn't say there was anything against him. He is a little queer
in his ideas--an enthusiast in some branches of science. As far as I
know he is a decent fellow enough."
"A medical student, I suppose?" said I.
"No--I have no idea what he intends to go in for. I believe he is well
up in anatomy, and he is a first-class chemist; but, as far as I know,
he has never taken out any systematic medical classes. His studies are
very desultory and eccentric, but he has amassed a lot of out-of-the way
knowledge which would astonish his professors."
"Did you never ask him what he was going in for?" I asked.
"No; he is not a man that it is easy to draw out, though he can be
communicative enough when the fancy seizes him."
"I should like to meet him," I said. "If I am to lodge with anyone, I
should prefer a man of studious and quiet habits. I am not strong
enough yet to stand much noise or excitement. I had enough of both in
Afghanistan to last me for the remainder of my natural existence. How
could I meet this friend of yours?"
"He is sure to be at the laboratory," returned my companion. "He either
avoids the place for weeks, or else he works there from morning to
night. If you like, we shall drive round together after luncheon."
"Certainly," I answered, and the conversation drifted away into other
channels.
As we made our way to the hospital after leaving the Holborn, Stamford
gave me a few more particulars about the gentleman whom I proposed to
take as a fellow-lodger.
"You mustn't blame me if you don't get on with him," he said; "I know
nothing more of him than I have learned from meeting him occasionally in
the laboratory. You proposed this arrangement, so you must not hold me
responsible."
"If we don't get on it will be easy to part company," I answered. "It
seems to me, Stamford," I added, looking hard at my companion, "that you
have some reason for washing your hands of the matter. Is this fellow's
temper so formidable, or what is it? Don't be mealy-mouthed about it."
"It is not easy to express the inexpressible," he answered with a laugh.
"Holmes is a little too scientific for my tastes--it approaches to
cold-bloodedness. I could imagine his giving a friend a little pinch of
the latest vegetable alkaloid, not out of malevolence, you understand,
but simply out of a spirit of inquiry in order to have an accurate idea
of the effects. To do him justice, I think that he would take it himself
with the same readiness. He appears to have a passion for definite and
exact knowledge."
"Very right too."
"Yes, but it may be pushed to excess. When it comes to beating the
subjects in the dissecting-rooms with a stick, it is certainly taking
rather a bizarre shape."
"Beating the subjects!"
"Yes, to verify how far bruises may be produced after death. I saw him
at it with my own eyes."
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
Title: A Study In Scarlet
Author: Arthur Conan Doyle
Posting Date: July 12, 2008 [EBook #244]
Release Date: April, 1995
[Last updated: February 17, 2013]
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A STUDY IN SCARLET ***
Produced by Roger Squires
A STUDY IN SCARLET.
By A. Conan Doyle
[1]
Original Transcriber's Note: This etext is prepared directly
from an 1887 edition, and care has been taken to duplicate the
original exactly, including typographical and punctuation
vagaries.
Additions to the text include adding the underscore character to
indicate italics, and textual end-notes in square braces.
Project Gutenberg Editor's Note: In reproofing and moving old PG
files such as this to the present PG directory system it is the
policy to reformat the text to conform to present PG Standards.
In this case however, in consideration of the note above of the
original transcriber describing his care to try to duplicate the
original 1887 edition as to typography and punctuation vagaries,
no changes have been made in this ascii text file. However, in
the Latin-1 file and this html file, present standards are
followed and the several French and Spanish words have been
given their proper accents.
Part II, The Country of the Saints, deals much with the Mormon Church.
A STUDY IN SCARLET.
PART I.
(_Being a reprint from the reminiscences of_ JOHN H. WATSON, M.D., _late
of the Army Medical Department._) [2]
CHAPTER I. MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES.
IN the year 1878 I took my degree of Doctor of Medicine of the
University of London, and proceeded to Netley to go through the course
prescribed for surgeons in the army. Having completed my studies there,
I was duly attached to the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers as Assistant
Surgeon. The regiment was stationed in India at the time, and before
I could join it, the second Afghan war had broken out. On landing at
Bombay, I learned that my corps had advanced through the passes, and
was already deep in the enemy's country. I followed, however, with many
other officers who were in the same situation as myself, and succeeded
in reaching Candahar in safety, where I found my regiment, and at once
entered upon my new duties.
The campaign brought honours and promotion to many, but for me it had
nothing but misfortune and disaster. I was removed from my brigade and
attached to the Berkshires, with whom I served at the fatal battle of
Maiwand. There I was struck on the shoulder by a Jezail bullet, which
shattered the bone and grazed the subclavian artery. I should have
fallen into the hands of the murderous Ghazis had it not been for the
devotion and courage shown by Murray, my orderly, who threw me across a
pack-horse, and succeeded in bringing me safely to the British lines.
Worn with pain, and weak from the prolonged hardships which I had
undergone, I was removed, with a great train of wounded sufferers, to
the base hospital at Peshawar. Here I rallied, and had already improved
so far as to be able to walk about the wards, and even to bask a little
upon the verandah, when I was struck down by enteric fever, that curse
of our Indian possessions. For months my life was despaired of, and
when at last I came to myself and became convalescent, I was so weak and
emaciated that a medical board determined that not a day should be lost
in sending me back to England. I was dispatched, accordingly, in the
troopship "Orontes," and landed a month later on Portsmouth jetty, with
my health irretrievably ruined, but with permission from a paternal
government to spend the next nine months in attempting to improve it.
I had neither kith nor kin in England, and was therefore as free as
air--or as free as an income of eleven shillings and sixpence a day will
permit a man to be. Under such circumstances, I naturally gravitated to
London, that great cesspool into which all the loungers and idlers of
the Empire are irresistibly drained. There I stayed for some time at
a private hotel in the Strand, leading a comfortless, meaningless
existence, and spending such money as I had, considerably more freely
than I ought. So alarming did the state of my finances become, that
I soon realized that I must either leave the metropolis and rusticate
somewhere in the country, or that I must make a complete alteration in
my style of living. Choosing the latter alternative, I began by making
up my mind to leave the hotel, and to take up my quarters in some less
pretentious and less expensive domicile.
On the very day that I had come to this conclusion, I was standing at
the Criterion Bar, when some one tapped me on the shoulder, and turning
round I recognized young Stamford, who had been a dresser under me at
Barts. The sight of a friendly face in the great wilderness of London is
a pleasant thing indeed to a lonely man. In old days Stamford had never
been a particular crony of mine, but now I hailed him with enthusiasm,
and he, in his turn, appeared to be delighted to see me. In the
exuberance of my joy, I asked him to lunch with me at the Holborn, and
we started off together in a hansom.
"Whatever have you been doing with yourself, Watson?" he asked in
undisguised wonder, as we rattled through the crowded London streets.
"You are as thin as a lath and as brown as a nut."
I gave him a short sketch of my adventures, and had hardly concluded it
by the time that we reached our destination.
"Poor devil!" he said, commiseratingly, after he had listened to my
misfortunes. "What are you up to now?"
"Looking for lodgings." [3] I answered. "Trying to solve the problem
as to whether it is possible to get comfortable rooms at a reasonable
price."
"That's a strange thing," remarked my companion; "you are the second man
to-day that has used that expression to me."
"And who was the first?" I asked.
"A fellow who is working at the chemical laboratory up at the hospital.
He was bemoaning himself this morning because he could not get someone
to go halves with him in some nice rooms which he had found, and which
were too much for his purse."
"By Jove!" I cried, "if he really wants someone to share the rooms and
the expense, I am the very man for him. I should prefer having a partner
to being alone."
Young Stamford looked rather strangely at me over his wine-glass. "You
don't know Sherlock Holmes yet," he said; "perhaps you would not care
for him as a constant companion."
"Why, what is there against him?"
"Oh, I didn't say there was anything against him. He is a little queer
in his ideas--an enthusiast in some branches of science. As far as I
know he is a decent fellow enough."
"A medical student, I suppose?" said I.
"No--I have no idea what he intends to go in for. I believe he is well
up in anatomy, and he is a first-class chemist; but, as far as I know,
he has never taken out any systematic medical classes. His studies are
very desultory and eccentric, but he has amassed a lot of out-of-the way
knowledge which would astonish his professors."
"Did you never ask him what he was going in for?" I asked.
"No; he is not a man that it is easy to draw out, though he can be
communicative enough when the fancy seizes him."
"I should like to meet him," I said. "If I am to lodge with anyone, I
should prefer a man of studious and quiet habits. I am not strong
enough yet to stand much noise or excitement. I had enough of both in
Afghanistan to last me for the remainder of my natural existence. How
could I meet this friend of yours?"
"He is sure to be at the laboratory," returned my companion. "He either
avoids the place for weeks, or else he works there from morning to
night. If you like, we shall drive round together after luncheon."
"Certainly," I answered, and the conversation drifted away into other
channels.
As we made our way to the hospital after leaving the Holborn, Stamford
gave me a few more particulars about the gentleman whom I proposed to
take as a fellow-lodger.
"You mustn't blame me if you don't get on with him," he said; "I know
nothing more of him than I have learned from meeting him occasionally in
the laboratory. You proposed this arrangement, so you must not hold me
responsible."
"If we don't get on it will be easy to part company," I answered. "It
seems to me, Stamford," I added, looking hard at my companion, "that you
have some reason for washing your hands of the matter. Is this fellow's
temper so formidable, or what is it? Don't be mealy-mouthed about it."
"It is not easy to express the inexpressible," he answered with a laugh.
"Holmes is a little too scientific for my tastes--it approaches to
cold-bloodedness. I could imagine his giving a friend a little pinch of
the latest vegetable alkaloid, not out of malevolence, you understand,
but simply out of a spirit of inquiry in order to have an accurate idea
of the effects. To do him justice, I think that he would take it himself
with the same readiness. He appears to have a passion for definite and
exact knowledge."
"Very right too."
"Yes, but it may be pushed to excess. When it comes to beating the
subjects in the dissecting-rooms with a stick, it is certainly taking
rather a bizarre shape."
"Beating the subjects!"
"Yes, to verify how far bruises may be produced after death. I saw him
at it with my own eyes."
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
Title: A Study In Scarlet
Author: Arthur Conan Doyle
Posting Date: July 12, 2008 [EBook #244]
Release Date: April, 1995
[Last updated: February 17, 2013]
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A STUDY IN SCARLET ***
Produced by Roger Squires
A STUDY IN SCARLET.
By A. Conan Doyle
[1]
Original Transcriber's Note: This etext is prepared directly
from an 1887 edition, and care has been taken to duplicate the
original exactly, including typographical and punctuation
vagaries.
Additions to the text include adding the underscore character to
indicate italics, and textual end-notes in square braces.
Project Gutenberg Editor's Note: In reproofing and moving old PG
files such as this to the present PG directory system it is the
policy to reformat the text to conform to present PG Standards.
In this case however, in consideration of the note above of the
original transcriber describing his care to try to duplicate the
original 1887 edition as to typography and punctuation vagaries,
no changes have been made in this ascii text file. However, in
the Latin-1 file and this html file, present standards are
followed and the several French and Spanish words have been
given their proper accents.
Part II, The Country of the Saints, deals much with the Mormon Church.
A STUDY IN SCARLET.
PART I.
(_Being a reprint from the reminiscences of_ JOHN H. WATSON, M.D., _late
of the Army Medical Department._) [2]
CHAPTER I. MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES.
IN the year 1878 I took my degree of Doctor of Medicine of the
University of London, and proceeded to Netley to go through the course
prescribed for surgeons in the army. Having completed my studies there,
I was duly attached to the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers as Assistant
Surgeon. The regiment was stationed in India at the time, and before
I could join it, the second Afghan war had broken out. On landing at
Bombay, I learned that my corps had advanced through the passes, and
was already deep in the enemy's country. I followed, however, with many
other officers who were in the same situation as myself, and succeeded
in reaching Candahar in safety, where I found my regiment, and at once
entered upon my new duties.
The campaign brought honours and promotion to many, but for me it had
nothing but misfortune and disaster. I was removed from my brigade and
attached to the Berkshires, with whom I served at the fatal battle of
Maiwand. There I was struck on the shoulder by a Jezail bullet, which
shattered the bone and grazed the subclavian artery. I should have
fallen into the hands of the murderous Ghazis had it not been for the
devotion and courage shown by Murray, my orderly, who threw me across a
pack-horse, and succeeded in bringing me safely to the British lines.
Worn with pain, and weak from the prolonged hardships which I had
undergone, I was removed, with a great train of wounded sufferers, to
the base hospital at Peshawar. Here I rallied, and had already improved
so far as to be able to walk about the wards, and even to bask a little
upon the verandah, when I was struck down by enteric fever, that curse
of our Indian possessions. For months my life was despaired of, and
when at last I came to myself and became convalescent, I was so weak and
emaciated that a medical board determined that not a day should be lost
in sending me back to England. I was dispatched, accordingly, in the
troopship "Orontes," and landed a month later on Portsmouth jetty, with
my health irretrievably ruined, but with permission from a paternal
government to spend the next nine months in attempting to improve it.
I had neither kith nor kin in England, and was therefore as free as
air--or as free as an income of eleven shillings and sixpence a day will
permit a man to be. Under such circumstances, I naturally gravitated to
London, that great cesspool into which all the loungers and idlers of
the Empire are irresistibly drained. There I stayed for some time at
a private hotel in the Strand, leading a comfortless, meaningless
existence, and spending such money as I had, considerably more freely
than I ought. So alarming did the state of my finances become, that
I soon realized that I must either leave the metropolis and rusticate
somewhere in the country, or that I must make a complete alteration in
my style of living. Choosing the latter alternative, I began by making
up my mind to leave the hotel, and to take up my quarters in some less
pretentious and less expensive domicile.
On the very day that I had come to this conclusion, I was standing at
the Criterion Bar, when some one tapped me on the shoulder, and turning
round I recognized young Stamford, who had been a dresser under me at
Barts. The sight of a friendly face in the great wilderness of London is
a pleasant thing indeed to a lonely man. In old days Stamford had never
been a particular crony of mine, but now I hailed him with enthusiasm,
and he, in his turn, appeared to be delighted to see me. In the
exuberance of my joy, I asked him to lunch with me at the Holborn, and
we started off together in a hansom.
"Whatever have you been doing with yourself, Watson?" he asked in
undisguised wonder, as we rattled through the crowded London streets.
"You are as thin as a lath and as brown as a nut."
I gave him a short sketch of my adventures, and had hardly concluded it
by the time that we reached our destination.
"Poor devil!" he said, commiseratingly, after he had listened to my
misfortunes. "What are you up to now?"
"Looking for lodgings." [3] I answered. "Trying to solve the problem
as to whether it is possible to get comfortable rooms at a reasonable
price."
"That's a strange thing," remarked my companion; "you are the second man
to-day that has used that expression to me."
"And who was the first?" I asked.
"A fellow who is working at the chemical laboratory up at the hospital.
He was bemoaning himself this morning because he could not get someone
to go halves with him in some nice rooms which he had found, and which
were too much for his purse."
"By Jove!" I cried, "if he really wants someone to share the rooms and
the expense, I am the very man for him. I should prefer having a partner
to being alone."
Young Stamford looked rather strangely at me over his wine-glass. "You
don't know Sherlock Holmes yet," he said; "perhaps you would not care
for him as a constant companion."
"Why, what is there against him?"
"Oh, I didn't say there was anything against him. He is a little queer
in his ideas--an enthusiast in some branches of science. As far as I
know he is a decent fellow enough."
"A medical student, I suppose?" said I.
"No--I have no idea what he intends to go in for. I believe he is well
up in anatomy, and he is a first-class chemist; but, as far as I know,
he has never taken out any systematic medical classes. His studies are
very desultory and eccentric, but he has amassed a lot of out-of-the way
knowledge which would astonish his professors."
"Did you never ask him what he was going in for?" I asked.
"No; he is not a man that it is easy to draw out, though he can be
communicative enough when the fancy seizes him."
"I should like to meet him," I said. "If I am to lodge with anyone, I
should prefer a man of studious and quiet habits. I am not strong
enough yet to stand much noise or excitement. I had enough of both in
Afghanistan to last me for the remainder of my natural existence. How
could I meet this friend of yours?"
"He is sure to be at the laboratory," returned my companion. "He either
avoids the place for weeks, or else he works there from morning to
night. If you like, we shall drive round together after luncheon."
"Certainly," I answered, and the conversation drifted away into other
channels.
As we made our way to the hospital after leaving the Holborn, Stamford
gave me a few more particulars about the gentleman whom I proposed to
take as a fellow-lodger.
"You mustn't blame me if you don't get on with him," he said; "I know
nothing more of him than I have learned from meeting him occasionally in
the laboratory. You proposed this arrangement, so you must not hold me
responsible."
"If we don't get on it will be easy to part company," I answered. "It
seems to me, Stamford," I added, looking hard at my companion, "that you
have some reason for washing your hands of the matter. Is this fellow's
temper so formidable, or what is it? Don't be mealy-mouthed about it."
"It is not easy to express the inexpressible," he answered with a laugh.
"Holmes is a little too scientific for my tastes--it approaches to
cold-bloodedness. I could imagine his giving a friend a little pinch of
the latest vegetable alkaloid, not out of malevolence, you understand,
but simply out of a spirit of inquiry in order to have an accurate idea
of the effects. To do him justice, I think that he would take it himself
with the same readiness. He appears to have a passion for definite and
exact knowledge."
"Very right too."
"Yes, but it may be pushed to excess. When it comes to beating the
subjects in the dissecting-rooms with a stick, it is certainly taking
rather a bizarre shape."
"Beating the subjects!"
"Yes, to verify how far bruises may be produced after death. I saw him
at it with my own eyes."
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
Title: A Study In Scarlet
Author: Arthur Conan Doyle
Posting Date: July 12, 2008 [EBook #244]
Release Date: April, 1995
[Last updated: February 17, 2013]
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A STUDY IN SCARLET ***
Produced by Roger Squires
A STUDY IN SCARLET.
By A. Conan Doyle
[1]
Original Transcriber's Note: This etext is prepared directly
from an 1887 edition, and care has been taken to duplicate the
original exactly, including typographical and punctuation
vagaries.
Additions to the text include adding the underscore character to
indicate italics, and textual end-notes in square braces.
Project Gutenberg Editor's Note: In reproofing and moving old PG
files such as this to the present PG directory system it is the
policy to reformat the text to conform to present PG Standards.
In this case however, in consideration of the note above of the
original transcriber describing his care to try to duplicate the
original 1887 edition as to typography and punctuation vagaries,
no changes have been made in this ascii text file. However, in
the Latin-1 file and this html file, present standards are
followed and the several French and Spanish words have been
given their proper accents.
Part II, The Country of the Saints, deals much with the Mormon Church.
A STUDY IN SCARLET.
PART I.
(_Being a reprint from the reminiscences of_ JOHN H. WATSON, M.D., _late
of the Army Medical Department._) [2]
CHAPTER I. MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES.
IN the year 1878 I took my degree of Doctor of Medicine of the
University of London, and proceeded to Netley to go through the course
prescribed for surgeons in the army. Having completed my studies there,
I was duly attached to the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers as Assistant
Surgeon. The regiment was stationed in India at the time, and before
I could join it, the second Afghan war had broken out. On landing at
Bombay, I learned that my corps had advanced through the passes, and
was already deep in the enemy's country. I followed, however, with many
other officers who were in the same situation as myself, and succeeded
in reaching Candahar in safety, where I found my regiment, and at once
entered upon my new duties.
The campaign brought honours and promotion to many, but for me it had
nothing but misfortune and disaster. I was removed from my brigade and
attached to the Berkshires, with whom I served at the fatal battle of
Maiwand. There I was struck on the shoulder by a Jezail bullet, which
shattered the bone and grazed the subclavian artery. I should have
fallen into the hands of the murderous Ghazis had it not been for the
devotion and courage shown by Murray, my orderly, who threw me across a
pack-horse, and succeeded in bringing me safely to the British lines.
Worn with pain, and weak from the prolonged hardships which I had
undergone, I was removed, with a great train of wounded sufferers, to
the base hospital at Peshawar. Here I rallied, and had already improved
so far as to be able to walk about the wards, and even to bask a little
upon the verandah, when I was struck down by enteric fever, that curse
of our Indian possessions. For months my life was despaired of, and
when at last I came to myself and became convalescent, I was so weak and
emaciated that a medical board determined that not a day should be lost
in sending me back to England. I was dispatched, accordingly, in the
troopship "Orontes," and landed a month later on Portsmouth jetty, with
my health irretrievably ruined, but with permission from a paternal
government to spend the next nine months in attempting to improve it.
I had neither kith nor kin in England, and was therefore as free as
air--or as free as an income of eleven shillings and sixpence a day will
permit a man to be. Under such circumstances, I naturally gravitated to
London, that great cesspool into which all the loungers and idlers of
the Empire are irresistibly drained. There I stayed for some time at
a private hotel in the Strand, leading a comfortless, meaningless
existence, and spending such money as I had, considerably more freely
than I ought. So alarming did the state of my finances become, that
I soon realized that I must either leave the metropolis and rusticate
somewhere in the country, or that I must make a complete alteration in
my style of living. Choosing the latter alternative, I began by making
up my mind to leave the hotel, and to take up my quarters in some less
pretentious and less expensive domicile.
On the very day that I had come to this conclusion, I was standing at
the Criterion Bar, when some one tapped me on the shoulder, and turning
round I recognized young Stamford, who had been a dresser under me at
Barts. The sight of a friendly face in the great wilderness of London is
a pleasant thing indeed to a lonely man. In old days Stamford had never
been a particular crony of mine, but now I hailed him with enthusiasm,
and he, in his turn, appeared to be delighted to see me. In the
exuberance of my joy, I asked him to lunch with me at the Holborn, and
we started off together in a hansom.
"Whatever have you been doing with yourself, Watson?" he asked in
undisguised wonder, as we rattled through the crowded London streets.
"You are as thin as a lath and as brown as a nut."
I gave him a short sketch of my adventures, and had hardly concluded it
by the time that we reached our destination.
"Poor devil!" he said, commiseratingly, after he had listened to my
misfortunes. "What are you up to now?"
"Looking for lodgings." [3] I answered. "Trying to solve the problem
as to whether it is possible to get comfortable rooms at a reasonable
price."
"That's a strange thing," remarked my companion; "you are the second man
to-day that has used that expression to me."
"And who was the first?" I asked.
"A fellow who is working at the chemical laboratory up at the hospital.
He was bemoaning himself this morning because he could not get someone
to go halves with him in some nice rooms which he had found, and which
were too much for his purse."
"By Jove!" I cried, "if he really wants someone to share the rooms and
the expense, I am the very man for him. I should prefer having a partner
to being alone."
Young Stamford looked rather strangely at me over his wine-glass. "You
don't know Sherlock Holmes yet," he said; "perhaps you would not care
for him as a constant companion."
"Why, what is there against him?"
"Oh, I didn't say there was anything against him. He is a little queer
in his ideas--an enthusiast in some branches of science. As far as I
know he is a decent fellow enough."
"A medical student, I suppose?" said I.
"No--I have no idea what he intends to go in for. I believe he is well
up in anatomy, and he is a first-class chemist; but, as far as I know,
he has never taken out any systematic medical classes. His studies are
very desultory and eccentric, but he has amassed a lot of out-of-the way
knowledge which would astonish his professors."
"Did you never ask him what he was going in for?" I asked.
"No; he is not a man that it is easy to draw out, though he can be
communicative enough when the fancy seizes him."
"I should like to meet him," I said. "If I am to lodge with anyone, I
should prefer a man of studious and quiet habits. I am not strong
enough yet to stand much noise or excitement. I had enough of both in
Afghanistan to last me for the remainder of my natural existence. How
could I meet this friend of yours?"
"He is sure to be at the laboratory," returned my companion. "He either
avoids the place for weeks, or else he works there from morning to
night. If you like, we shall drive round together after luncheon."
"Certainly," I answered, and the conversation drifted away into other
channels.
As we made our way to the hospital after leaving the Holborn, Stamford
gave me a few more particulars about the gentleman whom I proposed to
take as a fellow-lodger.
"You mustn't blame me if you don't get on with him," he said; "I know
nothing more of him than I have learned from meeting him occasionally in
the laboratory. You proposed this arrangement, so you must not hold me
responsible."
"If we don't get on it will be easy to part company," I answered. "It
seems to me, Stamford," I added, looking hard at my companion, "that you
have some reason for washing your hands of the matter. Is this fellow's
temper so formidable, or what is it? Don't be mealy-mouthed about it."
"It is not easy to express the inexpressible," he answered with a laugh.
"Holmes is a little too scientific for my tastes--it approaches to
cold-bloodedness. I could imagine his giving a friend a little pinch of
the latest vegetable alkaloid, not out of malevolence, you understand,
but simply out of a spirit of inquiry in order to have an accurate idea
of the effects. To do him justice, I think that he would take it himself
with the same readiness. He appears to have a passion for definite and
exact knowledge."
"Very right too."
"Yes, but it may be pushed to excess. When it comes to beating the
subjects in the dissecting-rooms with a stick, it is certainly taking
rather a bizarre shape."
"Beating the subjects!"
"Yes, to verify how far bruises may be produced after death. I saw him
at it with my own eyes."
"And yet you say he is not a medical student?" "And yet you say he is not a medical student?"
abcdef abcdef
"No. Heaven knows what the objects of his studies are. But here we "No. Heaven knows what the objects of his studies are. But here we
are, and you must form your own impressions about him." As he spoke, we are, and you must form your own impressions about him." As he spoke, we
turned down a narrow lane and passed through a small side-door, which turned down a narrow lane and passed through a small side-door, which
opened into a wing of the great hospital. It was familiar ground to me, opened into a wing of the great hospital. It was familiar ground to me,
and I needed no guiding as we ascended the bleak stone staircase and and I needed no guiding as we ascended the bleak stone staircase and
made our way down the long corridor with its vista of whitewashed made our way down the long corridor with its vista of whitewashed
wall and dun-coloured doors. Near the further end a low arched passage wall and dun-coloured doors. Near the further end a low arched passage
branched away from it and led to the chemical laboratory. branched away from it and led to the chemical laboratory.
 End of changes. 2 change blocks. 
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