aster of the situation. My listener was
paid to listen to me, and listen to me he must. If he did not do so
intelligently, he should be dismissed. It would be difficult to express
fully the delight given me by my new possession,--the ownership of
attention.

Every evening my listener came; and during a great part of every day I
thought of what I should say to him when he should come. I talked to him
with a feeling of freedom and absolute independence which thrilled me
like champagne. What mattered it whether my speech interested him or
not? He was paid to listen, without regard to interest; more than that,
he was paid to show an interest, whether he felt it or not. Whether I
bored him or delighted him, it made no difference; in fact, it would be
a pleasure to me occasionally to feel that I did bore him. To have the
full opportunity and the perfect right to bore a fellow-being is a
privilege not lightly to be prized, and an added zest is given to the
enjoyment of the borer by the knowledge that the bored one is bound to
make it appear that he is not bored.

In an easy-chair opposite to me my listener sat and listened for two
hours every evening. I interested myself by watching and attempting to
analyze the expressions on his face, but what these appeared to indicate
made no difference in my remarks. I do not think he liked repetitions,
but if I chose to tell a thing several times, I did so. He had no right
to tell me that he had heard that before. Immunity from this remark was
to me a rare enjoyment.

I made it a point to talk as well as I could, for I like to hear myself
talk well, but I paid no attention to the likings of my listener. Later
I should probably do this, but at present it was a joy to trample upon
the likings of others. My own likings in this respect had been so often
trampled upon that I would not now deny myself the exercise of the
right--bought and paid for--to take this sweet revenge.

On the evenings of nine week-days and one Sunday, when I confined myself
entirely to a description of a short visit to Palestine, I talked and my
listener listened. About the middle of the evening of the tenth
week-day, when I was engaged in the expression of some fancies evoked by
the recollection of a stroll through the Egyptian department of the
Louvre, I looked at my listener, and beheld him asleep.

As I stopped speaking he awoke with a start, and attempted to excuse
himself by stating that he had omitted to ta