A MAN to Whom Time Was Money, and who was bolting his breakfast in
order to catch a train, had leaned his newspaper against the sugar-
bowl and was reading as he ate. In his haste and abstraction he
stuck a pickle-fork into his right eye, and on removing the fork
the eye came with it. In buying spectacles the needless outlay1 for
the right lens soon reduced him to poverty, and the Man to Whom
Time Was Money had to sustain life by fishing from the end of a
wharf2.
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