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One summer night, a few months after my marriage, I was seated by my own hearth smoking a last pipe and nodding over a novel, for my day's work had been an exhausting one.
Showing posts with label The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes. Show all posts
Sunday, November 2, 2014
The Final Problem
Posted by Unknown on 2:34 AM
It is with a heavy heart that I take up my pen to write these the last words in which I shall ever record the singular gifts by which my friend Mr. Sherlock Holmes was distinguished.
The Gloria Scott
Posted by Unknown on 2:33 AM
“I have some papers here,” said my friend Sherlock Holmes, as we sat one winter's night on either side of the fire, “which I really think, Watson, that it would be worth your while to glance over.
The Greek Interpreter
Posted by Unknown on 2:30 AM
During my long and intimate acquaintance with Mr. Sherlock Holmes I had never heard him refer to his relations, and hardly ever to his own early life.
The Musgrave Ritual
Posted by Unknown on 2:27 AM
An anomaly which often struck me in the character of my friend Sherlock Holmes was that, although in his methods of thought he was the neatest and most methodical of mankind, and although also he affected a certain quiet primness of dress,
The Naval Treaty
Posted by Unknown on 2:26 AM
The July which immediately succeeded my marriage was made memorable by three cases of interest, in which I had the privilege of being associated with Sherlock Holmes and of studying his methods.
The Reigate Squires
Posted by Unknown on 2:24 AM
It was some time before the health of my friend Mr. Sherlock Holmes recovered from the strain caused by his immense exertions in the spring of '87. The whole question of the Netherland-Sumatra Company and of the colossal schemes of Baron Maupertuis are too recent in the minds of the public, and are too intimately concerned with politics and finance to be fitting subjects for this series of sketches.
The Resident Patient
Posted by Unknown on 2:22 AM
Glancing over the somewhat incoherent series of Memoirs with which I have endeavored to illustrate a few of the mental peculiarities of my friend Mr. Sherlock Holmes, I have been struck by the difficulty which I have experienced in picking out examples which shall in every way answer my purpose.
Silver Blaze
Posted by Unknown on 2:21 AM
“I am afraid, Watson, that I shall have to go,” said Holmes, as we sat down together to our breakfast one morning.
“Go! Where to?”
“To Dartmoor; to King's Pyland.”
The Stock-Broker's Clerk
Posted by Unknown on 2:19 AM
Shortly after my marriage I had bought a connection in the Paddington district. Old Mr. Farquhar, from whom I purchased it, had at one time an excellent general practice; but his age, and an affliction of the nature of St. Vitus's dance from which he suffered, had very much thinned it.
The Yellow Face
Posted by Unknown on 2:17 AM
[In publishing these short sketches based upon the numerous cases in which my companion's singular gifts have made us the listeners to, and eventually the actors in, some strange drama, it is only natural that I should dwell rather upon his successes than upon his failures.
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The Crooked Man