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Whitman, Walt, 1819-1892

"Complete Prose Works Specimen Days and Collect, November Boughs and Goodbye My Fancy"

In such petty reflections the daylight passed away. And all the
while the master wish of Philip's thoughts was a desire to see the
lawyer Covert. For what purpose he himself was by no means clear.
Nightfall came at last. Still, however, the young man did not direct
his steps homeward. He felt more calm, however, and entering an eating
house, order'd something for his supper, which, when it was brought to
him, he merely tasted, and stroll'd forth again. There was a kind of
gnawing sensation of thirst within him yet, and as he pass'd a hotel,
he bethought him that one little glass of spirits would perhaps be
just the thing. He drank, and hour after hour wore away unconsciously;
he drank not one glass, but three or four, and strong glasses they
were to him, for he was habitually abstemious.
It had been a hot day and evening, and when Philip, at an advanced
period of the night, emerged from the bar-room into the street, he
found that a thunderstorm had just commenced. He resolutely walk'd on,
however, although at every step it grew more and more blustering.
The rain now pour'd down a cataract; the shops were all shut; few
of the street lamps were lighted; and there was little except the
frequent flashes of lightning to show him his way. When about half the
length of Chatham street, which lay in the direction he had to take,
the momentary fury of the tempest forced him to turn aside into a
sort of shelter form'd by the corners of the deep entrance to a Jew
pawnbroker's shop there.


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