The Thousand and One Bottles

So it was that on the twenty-ninth day of February, at the beginning of the thaw, this singular person fell out of infinity into Iping village. Next day his luggage arrived through the slush—and very remarkable luggage it was. There were a couple of trunks indeed, such as a rational man might need, but in addition there were a box of books—big, fat books, of which some were just in an incomprehensible handwriting—and a dozen or more crates, boxes, and cases, containing objects packed in straw, as it seemed to Hall, tugging with a casual curiosity at the straw—glass bottles. The stranger, muffled in hat, coat, gloves, and wrapper, came out impatiently to meet Fearenside’s cart, while Hall was having a word or so of gossip preparatory to helping bring them in. Out he came, not noticing Fearenside’s dog, who was sniffing in a dilettante spirit at Hall’s legs. “Come along with those boxes,” he said. “I’ve been waiting long enough.”

So it was that on February 29, as the thaw began, this unusual man fell out of infinity into Iping village. The next day, his luggage arrived through the slush. It was very remarkable luggage. There were two trunks, of course, the sort a sensible man might need. But there was also a box of big, thick books, some of them written in handwriting no one could understand. And there were a dozen or more crates, boxes, and cases containing objects packed in straw. Hall pulled at the straw with idle curiosity and found what appeared to be glass bottles. The stranger, bundled up in a hat, coat, gloves, and scarf, came out impatiently to meet Fearenside’s cart. Hall was chatting with Fearenside before helping bring the luggage in. The stranger did not notice Fearenside’s dog, who was sniffing at Hall’s legs with a casual interest. “Come along with those boxes,” he said. “I’ve been waiting long enough.”

And he came down the steps towards the tail of the cart as if to lay hands on the smaller crate.

And he came down the steps toward the back of the cart, as if to grab the smaller crate.

No sooner had Fearenside’s dog caught sight of him, however, than it began to bristle and growl savagely, and when he rushed down the steps it gave an undecided hop, and then sprang straight at his hand. “Whup!” cried Hall, jumping back, for he was no hero with dogs, and Fearenside howled, “Lie down!” and snatched his whip.

As soon as Fearenside’s dog saw him, however, it bristled and growled fiercely. When he rushed down the steps, the dog hesitated, gave a little hop, and sprang straight at his hand. “Whup!” cried Hall, jumping back. He was no hero when it came to dogs. Fearenside shouted, “Lie down!” and grabbed his whip.

They saw the dog’s teeth had slipped the hand, heard a kick, saw the dog execute a flanking jump and get home on the stranger’s leg, and heard the rip of his trousering. Then the finer end of Fearenside’s whip reached his property, and the dog, yelping with dismay, retreated under the wheels of the waggon. It was all the business of a swift half-minute. No one spoke, everyone shouted. The stranger glanced swiftly at his torn glove and at his leg, made as if he would stoop to the latter, then turned and rushed swiftly up the steps into the inn. They heard him go headlong across the passage and up the uncarpeted stairs to his bedroom.

They saw the dog’s teeth slip off the stranger’s hand and heard a kick. Then the dog jumped to one side and bit the stranger’s leg. They heard his trousers rip. Fearenside struck the dog with the tip of his whip, and it yelped in dismay and retreated under the wagon wheels. It was all over in a quick half-minute. No one spoke, everyone shouted. The stranger glanced quickly at his torn glove and his leg. He started to bend down toward his leg, then turned and rushed up the steps into the inn. They heard him rush across the passage and up the bare stairs to his bedroom.

“You brute, you!” said Fearenside, climbing off the waggon with his whip in his hand, while the dog watched him through the wheel. “Come here,” said Fearenside—“You’d better.”

“You brute!” said Fearenside. He climbed down from the wagon with his whip in his hand, while the dog watched him through the wheel. “Come here,” said Fearenside. “You’d better.”

Hall had stood gaping. “He wuz bit,” said Hall. “I’d better go and see to en,” and he trotted after the stranger. He met Mrs. Hall in the passage. “Carrier’s darg,” he said “bit en.”

Hall stood staring. “He was bit,” said Hall. “I’d better go and see to him,” and he hurried after the stranger. He met Mrs. Hall in the passage. “Carrier’s dog,” he said, “bit him.”

He went straight upstairs, and the stranger’s door being ajar, he pushed it open and was entering without any ceremony, being of a naturally sympathetic turn of mind.

He went straight upstairs and found the stranger’s door slightly open. Naturally sympathetic, he pushed it open and started to enter without hesitation.

The blind was down and the room dim. He caught a glimpse of a most singular thing, what seemed a handless arm waving towards him, and a face of three huge indeterminate spots on white, very like the face of a pale pansy. Then he was struck violently in the chest, hurled back, and the door slammed in his face and locked. It was so rapid that it gave him no time to observe. A waving of indecipherable shapes, a blow, and a concussion. There he stood on the dark little landing, wondering what it might be that he had seen.

The blind was down, and the room was dim. He glimpsed something very strange. What looked like an armless hand was waving toward him, and there was a face with three huge, indistinct spots on white. It looked much like the face of a pale pansy. Then something struck him violently in the chest, throwing him backward. The door slammed in his face and locked. It all happened so fast that he had no time to observe. There was a wave of shapes he could not make out, a blow, and a jarring impact. He stood on the small, dark landing, wondering what he had seen.

A couple of minutes after, he rejoined the little group that had formed outside the “Coach and Horses.” There was Fearenside telling about it all over again for the second time; there was Mrs. Hall saying his dog didn’t have no business to bite her guests; there was Huxter, the general dealer from over the road, interrogative; and Sandy Wadgers from the forge, judicial; besides women and children, all of them saying fatuities: “Wouldn’t let en bite me, I knows”; “’Tasn’t right have such dargs”; “Whad ’e bite ’n for, then?” and so forth.

A couple of minutes later, he rejoined the small group outside the “Coach and Horses.” Fearenside was telling the whole story for the second time. Mrs. Hall was saying his dog didn’t have no business biting her guests. Huxter, the general dealer from across the road, was asking questions. Sandy Wadgers from the forge was passing judgment. There were also women and children, all saying silly things: “Wouldn’t let him bite me, I know”; “It isn’t right to have such dogs”; “What did he bite him for, then?” and so on.

Mr. Hall, staring at them from the steps and listening, found it incredible that he had seen anything so very remarkable happen upstairs. Besides, his vocabulary was altogether too limited to express his impressions.

Mr. Hall stared at them from the steps and listened. He could hardly believe he had seen anything so remarkable happen upstairs. Besides, his vocabulary was far too limited to express his impressions.

“He don’t want no help, he says,” he said in answer to his wife’s inquiry. “We’d better be a-takin’ of his luggage in.”

“He don’t want no help, he says,” he said in answer to his wife’s question. “We’d better be taking his luggage in.”

“He ought to have it cauterised at once,” said Mr. Huxter; “especially if it’s at all inflamed.”

“He should have it cauterized right away,” said Mr. Huxter, “especially if it’s at all inflamed.”

“I’d shoot en, that’s what I’d do,” said a lady in the group.

“I’d shoot him, that’s what I’d do,” said a woman in the group.

Suddenly the dog began growling again.

Suddenly, the dog began growling again.

“Come along,” cried an angry voice in the doorway, and there stood the muffled stranger with his collar turned up, and his hat-brim bent down. “The sooner you get those things in the better I’ll be pleased.” It is stated by an anonymous bystander that his trousers and gloves had been changed.

“Come on,” an angry voice called from the doorway. The bundled-up stranger stood there, his collar turned up and his hat brim pulled down. “The sooner you get those things inside, the happier I’ll be.” An unnamed bystander said that the stranger had changed his trousers and gloves.

“Was you hurt, sir?” said Fearenside. “I’m rare sorry the darg—”

“Was you hurt, sir?” said Fearenside. “I’m very sorry the dog...”

“Not a bit,” said the stranger. “Never broke the skin. Hurry up with those things.”

“Not at all,” said the stranger. “It never broke the skin. Hurry up with those things.”

He then swore to himself, so Mr. Hall asserts.

He then swore to himself, according to Mr. Hall.

Directly the first crate was, in accordance with his directions, carried into the parlour, the stranger flung himself upon it with extraordinary eagerness, and began to unpack it, scattering the straw with an utter disregard of Mrs. Hall’s carpet. And from it he began to produce bottles—little fat bottles containing powders, small and slender bottles containing coloured and white fluids, fluted blue bottles labeled Poison, bottles with round bodies and slender necks, large green-glass bottles, large white-glass bottles, bottles with glass stoppers and frosted labels, bottles with fine corks, bottles with bungs, bottles with wooden caps, wine bottles, salad-oil bottles—putting them in rows on the chiffonnier, on the mantel, on the table under the window, round the floor, on the bookshelf—everywhere. The chemist’s shop in Bramblehurst could not boast half so many. Quite a sight it was. Crate after crate yielded bottles, until all six were empty and the table high with straw; the only things that came out of these crates besides the bottles were a number of test-tubes and a carefully packed balance.

As soon as the first crate was carried into the parlour, as he had directed, the stranger eagerly threw himself upon it. He began unpacking it, scattering straw without any regard for Mrs. Hall’s carpet. He began pulling out bottles: little fat bottles of powder, small slender bottles of coloured and white liquids, and ridged blue bottles labeled Poison. There were bottles with round bodies and slender necks, large green-glass bottles, and large clear-glass bottles. Some had glass stoppers and frosted labels, some had fine corks, some had bungs, and some had wooden caps. There were wine bottles and salad-oil bottles. He arranged them in rows on the sideboard, the mantel, the table under the window, the floor, and the bookshelf. They were everywhere. The chemist’s shop in Bramblehurst could not boast half as many. It was quite a sight. Crate after crate yielded bottles, until all six were empty and the table was piled high with straw. The only other things in the crates were several test tubes and a carefully packed balance.

And directly the crates were unpacked, the stranger went to the window and set to work, not troubling in the least about the litter of straw, the fire which had gone out, the box of books outside, nor for the trunks and other luggage that had gone upstairs.

As soon as the crates were unpacked, the stranger went to the window and began working. He paid no attention to the scattered straw, the fire that had gone out, or the box of books outside. He also ignored the trunks and other luggage that had gone upstairs.

When Mrs. Hall took his dinner in to him, he was already so absorbed in his work, pouring little drops out of the bottles into test-tubes, that he did not hear her until she had swept away the bulk of the straw and put the tray on the table, with some little emphasis perhaps, seeing the state that the floor was in. Then he half turned his head and immediately turned it away again. But she saw he had removed his glasses; they were beside him on the table, and it seemed to her that his eye sockets were extraordinarily hollow. He put on his spectacles again, and then turned and faced her. She was about to complain of the straw on the floor when he anticipated her.

When Mrs. Hall brought him his dinner, he was already absorbed in his work. He was pouring little drops from the bottles into test tubes. He did not hear her until she had swept away most of the straw and put the tray on the table. Perhaps she set the tray down a little firmly because of the state of the floor. Then he half turned his head and immediately turned away again. But she saw that he had taken off his glasses. They were beside him on the table, and his eye sockets seemed extraordinarily hollow to her. He put his glasses back on, then turned to face her. She was about to complain about the straw on the floor, but he spoke first.

“I wish you wouldn’t come in without knocking,” he said in the tone of abnormal exasperation that seemed so characteristic of him.

“I wish you wouldn’t come in without knocking,” he said. His voice had the unusually irritated tone that seemed so typical of him.

“I knocked, but seemingly—”

“I knocked, but apparently...”

“Perhaps you did. But in my investigations—my really very urgent and necessary investigations—the slightest disturbance, the jar of a door—I must ask you—”

“Perhaps you did. But my investigations are very urgent and necessary. The slightest disturbance, even a door shaking, I must ask you...”

“Certainly, sir. You can turn the lock if you’re like that, you know. Any time.”

“Of course, sir. You can lock the door if you feel that way, you know. Anytime.”

“A very good idea,” said the stranger.

“A very good idea,” said the stranger.

“This stror, sir, if I might make so bold as to remark—”

“This straw, sir, if I may say so...”

“Don’t. If the straw makes trouble put it down in the bill.” And he mumbled at her—words suspiciously like curses.

“Don’t. If the straw causes trouble, add it to the bill.” And he mumbled words at her that sounded suspiciously like curses.

He was so odd, standing there, so aggressive and explosive, bottle in one hand and test-tube in the other, that Mrs. Hall was quite alarmed. But she was a resolute woman. “In which case, I should like to know, sir, what you consider—”

He looked so strange standing there, aggressive and explosive, with a bottle in one hand and a test tube in the other. Mrs. Hall was quite alarmed. But she was a determined woman. “In that case, sir, I would like to know what you consider...”

“A shilling—put down a shilling. Surely a shilling’s enough?”

“A shilling. Put down a shilling. Surely a shilling is enough?”

“So be it,” said Mrs. Hall, taking up the table-cloth and beginning to spread it over the table. “If you’re satisfied, of course—”

“All right,” said Mrs. Hall. She picked up the tablecloth and began spreading it over the table. “If you’re satisfied, of course...”

He turned and sat down, with his coat-collar toward her.

He turned and sat down, with his coat collar facing her.

All the afternoon he worked with the door locked and, as Mrs. Hall testifies, for the most part in silence. But once there was a concussion and a sound of bottles ringing together as though the table had been hit, and the smash of a bottle flung violently down, and then a rapid pacing athwart the room. Fearing “something was the matter,” she went to the door and listened, not caring to knock.

He worked all afternoon with the door locked and, as Mrs. Hall says, mostly in silence. But once there was a thump and the sound of bottles clinking together, as if someone had hit the table. Then a bottle smashed, as if it had been thrown down violently, and he began pacing quickly across the room. Fearing “something was the matter,” she went to the door and listened, unwilling to knock.

“I can’t go on,” he was raving. “I can’t go on. Three hundred thousand, four hundred thousand! The huge multitude! Cheated! All my life it may take me! ... Patience! Patience indeed! ... Fool! fool!”

“I can’t go on,” he ranted. “I can’t go on. Three hundred thousand, four hundred thousand! The huge crowd! Cheated! It may take me all my life! ... Patience! Patience indeed! ... Fool! Fool!”

There was a noise of hobnails on the bricks in the bar, and Mrs. Hall had very reluctantly to leave the rest of his soliloquy. When she returned the room was silent again, save for the faint crepitation of his chair and the occasional clink of a bottle. It was all over; the stranger had resumed work.

Hobnailed boots clattered on the brick floor of the bar. Mrs. Hall was very reluctant to leave before the stranger had finished talking to himself. When she returned, the room was quiet again, except for the faint creaking of his chair and the occasional clink of a bottle. It was all over. The stranger had gone back to work.

When she took in his tea she saw broken glass in the corner of the room under the concave mirror, and a golden stain that had been carelessly wiped. She called attention to it.

When she brought in his tea, she saw broken glass in the corner under the concave mirror. There was also a golden stain that had been carelessly wiped. She pointed it out.

“Put it down in the bill,” snapped her visitor. “For God’s sake don’t worry me. If there’s damage done, put it down in the bill,” and he went on ticking a list in the exercise book before him.

“Add it to the bill,” her visitor snapped. “For God’s sake, don’t bother me. If anything is damaged, add it to the bill.” He went on checking off a list in the notebook in front of him.

“I’ll tell you something,” said Fearenside, mysteriously. It was late in the afternoon, and they were in the little beer-shop of Iping Hanger.

“I’ll tell you something,” said Fearenside mysteriously. It was late afternoon, and they were in the little beer shop at Iping Hanger.

“Well?” said Teddy Henfrey.

“Well?” said Teddy Henfrey.

“This chap you’re speaking of, what my dog bit. Well—he’s black. Leastways, his legs are. I seed through the tear of his trousers and the tear of his glove. You’d have expected a sort of pinky to show, wouldn’t you? Well—there wasn’t none. Just blackness. I tell you, he’s as black as my hat.”

“This chap you’re speaking of, the one my dog bit. Well, he’s black. At least, his legs are. I saw through the tear in his trousers and the tear in his glove. You’d have expected a sort of pink to show, wouldn’t you? Well, there wasn’t any. Just blackness. I tell you, he’s as black as my hat.”

“My sakes!” said Henfrey. “It’s a rummy case altogether. Why, his nose is as pink as paint!”

“My goodness!” said Henfrey. “It’s a strange case altogether. Why, his nose is as pink as paint!”

“That’s true,” said Fearenside. “I knows that. And I tell ’ee what I’m thinking. That marn’s a piebald, Teddy. Black here and white there—in patches. And he’s ashamed of it. He’s a kind of half-breed, and the colour’s come off patchy instead of mixing. I’ve heard of such things before. And it’s the common way with horses, as any one can see.”

“That’s true,” said Fearenside. “I knows that. And I tell you what I’m thinking. That man’s a piebald, Teddy. Black here and white there, in patches. And he’s ashamed of it. He’s a kind of half-breed, and the color’s come out patchy instead of mixing. I’ve heard of such things before. And it’s common with horses, as anyone can see.”