Page by Page Books
Read Books Online, for Free
Part I Being a reprint from the reminiscences of JOHN H. WATSON, M.D., late of the Army Medical Department. Arthur Conan Doyle

The Science Of Deduction.


Page 3 of 7



Table Of Contents: A Study In Scarlet

Previous Page

Next Page

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter


More Books

More by this Author

SHERLOCK HOLMES -- his limits.

1. Knowledge of Literature. -- Nil.
2.              Philosophy. -- Nil.
3.              Astronomy. -- Nil.
4.              Politics. -- Feeble.
5.              Botany. -- Variable.  Well up in belladonna,
                            opium, and poisons generally.
                            Knows nothing of practical gardening.
6.              Geology. -- Practical, but limited.
                             Tells at a glance different soils
                             from each other.  After walks has
                             shown me splashes upon his trousers,
                             and told me by their colour and
                             consistence in what part of London
                             he had received them.
7.              Chemistry. -- Profound.
8.              Anatomy. -- Accurate, but unsystematic.
9.              Sensational Literature. -- Immense.  He appears
                            to know every detail of every horror
                            perpetrated in the century.
10. Plays the violin well.
11. Is an expert singlestick player, boxer, and swordsman.
12. Has a good practical knowledge of British law.

When I had got so far in my list I threw it into the fire in despair. "If I can only find what the fellow is driving at by reconciling all these accomplishments, and discovering a calling which needs them all," I said to myself, "I may as well give up the attempt at once."

We have hundreds more books for your enjoyment. Read them all!

I see that I have alluded above to his powers upon the violin. These were very remarkable, but as eccentric as all his other accomplishments. That he could play pieces, and difficult pieces, I knew well, because at my request he has played me some of Mendelssohn's Lieder, and other favourites. When left to himself, however, he would seldom produce any music or attempt any recognized air. Leaning back in his arm-chair of an evening, he would close his eyes and scrape carelessly at the fiddle which was thrown across his knee. Sometimes the chords were sonorous and melancholy. Occasionally they were fantastic and cheerful. Clearly they reflected the thoughts which possessed him, but whether the music aided those thoughts, or whether the playing was simply the result of a whim or fancy was more than I could determine. I might have rebelled against these exasperating solos had it not been that he usually terminated them by playing in quick succession a whole series of my favourite airs as a slight compensation for the trial upon my patience.

During the first week or so we had no callers, and I had begun to think that my companion was as friendless a man as I was myself. Presently, however, I found that he had many acquaintances, and those in the most different classes of society. There was one little sallow rat-faced, dark-eyed fellow who was introduced to me as Mr. Lestrade, and who came three or four times in a single week. One morning a young girl called, fashionably dressed, and stayed for half an hour or more. The same afternoon brought a grey-headed, seedy visitor, looking like a Jew pedlar, who appeared to me to be much excited, and who was closely followed by a slip-shod elderly woman. On another occasion an old white-haired gentleman had an interview with my companion; and on another a railway porter in his velveteen uniform. When any of these nondescript individuals put in an appearance, Sherlock Holmes used to beg for the use of the sitting-room, and I would retire to my bed-room. He always apologized to me for putting me to this inconvenience. "I have to use this room as a place of business," he said, "and these people are my clients." Again I had an opportunity of asking him a point blank question, and again my delicacy prevented me from forcing another man to confide in me. I imagined at the time that he had some strong reason for not alluding to it, but he soon dispelled the idea by coming round to the subject of his own accord.

 
Page 3 of 7 Previous Page   Next Page
Who's On Your Reading List?
Read Classic Books Online for Free at
Page by Page Books.TM
A Study In Scarlet
Arthur Conan Doyle

Home | More Books | About Us | Copyright 2004