an article.

There was no possible use in giving way, with the unpaid rent staring
me straight in the face.

Slowly, quite slowly, my thoughts collected. I paid attention to them,
and wrote quietly and well; wrote a couple of pages as an introduction.
It would serve as a beginning to anything. A description of travel, a
political leader, just as I thought fit--it was a perfectly splendid
commencement for something or anything. So I took to seeking for some
particular subject to handle, a person or a thing, that I might grapple
with, and I could find nothing. Along with this fruitless exertion,
disorder began to hold its sway again in my thoughts. I felt how my
brain positively snapped and my head emptied, until it sat at last,
light, buoyant, and void on my shoulders. I was conscious of the gaping
vacuum in my skull with every fibre of my being. I seemed to myself to
be hollowed out from top and toe.

In my pain I cried: "Lord, my God and Father!" and repeated this cry
many times at a stretch, without adding one word more.

The wind soughed through the trees; a storm was brewing. I sat a while
longer, and gazed at my paper, lost in thought, then folded it up and
put it slowly into my pocket. It got chilly; and I no longer owned a
waistcoat. I buttoned my coat right up to my throat and thrust my hands
in my pockets; thereupon I rose and went on.

If I had only succeeded this time, just this once. Twice my landlady
had asked me with her eyes for payment, and I was obliged to hang my
head and slink past her with a shamefaced air. I could not do it again:
the very next time I met those eyes I would give warning and account
for myself honestly. Well, any way, things could not last long at this
rate.

On coming to the exit of the park I saw the old chap I had put to
flight. The mysterious new paper parcel lay opened on the seat next
him, filled with different sorts of victuals, of which he ate as he
sat. I immediately wanted to go over and ask pardon for my conduct, but
the sight of food repelled me. The decrepit fingers looked like ten
claws as they clutched loathsomely at the greasy bread and butter; I
felt qualmish, and passed by without addressing him. He did not
recognize me; his eyes stared at me, dry as horn, and his face did not
move a muscle.

And so I went on my way.

As customary, I halted before every newspaper placard I came to, to
read the announcements of situations vacant, and was lucky enough to
f