Waiting until what I took to be a
favourable opportunity, with infinite precaution I struck a light.
It flickered in a sickly fashion for a moment between my sheltering
palms, and immediately expired.
This is but one example of that "Spirit of the Perverse" pervading
all things mundane, which we poor mortals are called upon to bear
as best we may. Therefore I tossed aside the charred match, and
having searched fruitlessly through my pockets for another, waited
philosophically for some "good Samaritan" to come along. The bank
I have mentioned sloped away gently on my left, thus affording an
uninterrupted view of the path.
Now as my eyes followed this winding path I beheld an individual
some distance away who crawled upon his hands and knees, evidently
searching for something. As I watched, he succeeded in raking a
Panama hat from beneath a bush, and having dusted it carefully with
his handkerchief, replaced it upon his head and continued his
advance.
With some faint hope that there might be a loose match hiding away
in some corner of my pockets, I went through them again more
carefully, but alas! with no better success; whereupon I gave it
up and turned to glance at the approaching figure.
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