ur teeth so big and strong and white, and your jaw such a--such
a--_jaw_--"

"I see the point," said I. And I did. "You'll find you won't need to tell
me many things twice. I've got a busy day before me here; so we'll have
to suspend this until you come to dine with me at eight--at my rooms.
I want you to put in the time well. Go to my house in the country and
then up to my apartment; take my valet with you; look through all my
belongings--shirts, ties, socks, trousers, waistcoats, clothes of every
kind. Throw out every rag you think doesn't fit in with what I want to be.
How's my grammar?"

I was proud of it; I had been taking more or less pains with my mode of
speech for a dozen years. "Rather too good," said he. "But that's better
than making the breaks that aren't regarded as good form."

"Good form!" I exclaimed. "That's it! That's what I want! What does 'good
form' mean?"

He laughed. "You can search me," said he. "I could easier tell
you--anything else. It's what everybody recognizes on sight, and nobody
knows how to describe. It's like the difference between a cultivated
'jimson' weed and a wild one."

"Like the difference between Mowbray Langdon and me," I suggested
good-naturedly. "How about my manners?"

"Not so bad," said he. "Not so rotten bad. But--when you're polite, you're
a little too polite; when you're not polite, you--"

"Show where I came from too plainly?" said I. "Speak right out--hit good
and hard. Am I too frank for 'good form'?"

"You needn't bother about that," he assured me. "Say whatever comes into
your head--only, be sure the right sort of thing comes into your head.
Don't talk too much about yourself, for instance. It's good form to think
about yourself all the time; it's bad form to let people see it--in your
talk. Say as little as possible about your business and about what you've
got. Don't be lavish with the I's and the my's."

"That's harder," said I. "I'm a man who has always minded his own business,
and cared for nothing else. What could I talk about, except myself?"

"Blest if I know," replied he. "Where you want to go, the last thing people
mind is their own business--in talk, at least. But you'll get on all right
if you don't worry too much about it. You've got natural independence, and
an original way of putting things, and common sense. Don't be afraid."

"Afraid!" said I. "I never knew what it was to be afraid."

"Your nerve'll carry you through," he assured me. "