Bruff's office."
In our modern system of civilisation, celebrity (no matter of what kind)
is the lever that will move anything. The fame of the great Cuff had
even reached the ears of the small Gooseberry. The boy's ill-fixed
eyes rolled, when I mentioned the illustrious name, till I thought they
really must have dropped on the carpet.
"Come here, my lad," said the Sergeant, "and let's hear what you have got
to tell us."
The notice of the great man--the hero of many a famous story in every
lawyer's office in London--appeared to fascinate the boy. He placed
himself in front of Sergeant Cuff, and put his hands behind him, after
the approved fashion of a neophyte who is examined in his catechism.
"What is your name?" said the Sergeant, beginning with the first
question in the catechism.
"Octavius Guy," answered the boy. "They call me Gooseberry at the office
because of my eyes."
"Octavius Guy, otherwise Gooseberry," pursued the Sergeant, with the
utmost gravity, "you were missed at the bank yesterday. What were you
about?"
"If you please, sir, I was following a man."
"Who was he?"
"A tall man, sir, with a big black beard, dressed like a sailor.
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