Several of the persons who examined the exhibition, did not believe that it had been the work of Edward at all. Among his better-class visitors was a gentleman who frequently came in as he passed, and carefully examined the specimens. He sometimes gave Edward half-a-crown, and would not take any change back. The gentleman was an inveterate and persistent interrogator. His questions were usually of a personal character. But Edward had by this time prepared a bag of forgetfulness, into which he put all the disagreeable things that were said to him; and once there, he remembered them no more. Edward believed that his visitor belonged to the medical profession, and that he was connected with a neighbouring dispensary.[33]
A SEVERE INTERROGATOR.
One day the visitor arrived, and without looking at the specimens, he went directly up to Edward and asked, “Well, how are you getting on?” “Very poorly,” was the answer. “And no wonder!” said the visitor. “How?” “How!” he almost shouted, “because the people here don’t believe in such a thing. I am sure of it from what I know and have heard myself.”
“But if they would only come!”
“Come? that’s the very thing. It seems they’ll not come. And although they did, what satisfactory evidence is there that what they see is the result of your own unaided and individual labour? You are quite a stranger here. You should have had some persons of high standing in the city to take you under their patronage: say the professors of both colleges, or the provost and town-council. Oh! you needn’t shake your head and look at the floor. It would have been much better.”
“I never considered myself in a position,” said Edward, “to ask such a favour.”
“Then you’ll not succeed here unless you do something of the sort.”
“In that case, then,” said Edward, “I’ll be plain enough to tell you that I never will succeed.”
EDWARD DISBELIEVED.