His nose lay straight down his face, like a finger with the end joint tilted up.

They had been drinking, I could see that.

And what queer talk they used! Mr.
Holmes inspected this cabin, then he took me by the buttonhole, and says he-- "'Through the deep cares of thought I hear a voice that sings, Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul!' "Says I, 'I can't afford it, Mr.Holmes, and moreover I don't want to.' Blamed if I liked it pretty well, either, coming from a stranger, that way.

However, I started to get out my bacon and beans, when Mr.Emerson came and looked on awhile, and then he takes me aside by the buttonhole and says-- "'Give me agates for my meat; Give me cantharids to eat; From air and ocean bring me foods, From all zones and altitudes.' "Says I, 'Mr.Emerson, if you'll excuse me, this ain't no hotel.' You see it sort of riled me--I warn't used to the ways of littery swells.

But I went on a-sweating over my work, and next comes Mr.
Longfellow and buttonholes me, and interrupts me.