Some people — not you or me, because we have a lot of self-control — and some people, when visiting people or chatting with people at night, always find it difficult and difficult to say goodbye. Time passed minute by minute, and when it was time for the visitor to feel that he really should go, he stood up and said, "Uh, I miss me..." And then the master said, "Oh, are you going to leave?" It's still early! So the embarrassment of the visitors being undecided ensued.
Of all the things of this kind to my knowledge, the most tragic example is the plight of my poor friend, Mr. Mel Palmenius Jones. He was an assistant pastor, a very lovely young man, only twenty-three years old. He simply didn't know how to get out of the homes of the people he was visiting. He was so loyal that he would not lie, and at the same time he was so polite that he never wanted to be disrespectful. It happened to be the afternoon of his first day of summer vacation when he visited the home of one of his friends. The next six weeks were his own—he had nothing to do. He chatted there for a while, drank two cups of tea, and then plucked up the courage and said abruptly, "Uh, I think I..."
But the hostess said, "Oh, don't worry! Mr. Jones, can't you really stay a little longer? ”
Jones always told the truth. "Oh, yes," he said, "of course I—what about it—can stay a little longer." ”
"Then please don't go."
He stayed and drank eleven cups of tea. Night began to fall, and he stood up again.
"Uh, now," he said sheepishly, "I think I really..."
"Do you have to go?" The hostess said politely, "I thought you could stay for dinner..."
"Well, yes, you know," Jones said, "if..."
"Then stay, I'm sure my husband will be happy."
"Well," he said weakly, "then stay." He sat back in his chair and poured a stomach full of tea, which was strangely uncomfortable.
The man came back. They started eating dinner. During the meal Jones sat there from beginning to end, calculating that he would say goodbye at 8:30. The host family wondered whether Jones was depressed because he was stupid, or if he was just dumbfounded.
After eating, the hostess wanted to "open his speech box" and showed him the picture. She took out all the photographs she had treasured in the house, for miles in all—among them there was a picture of the man's uncle and aunt, a picture of the hostess's brother and his young son, a very interesting picture of the man's uncle's friend in a Bengal military uniform, a very good picture of the dog of the man's grandfather's colleague, and a very evil picture of the man playing the devil at a masquerade.
By eight thirty, Jones had seen seventy-one photographs, and about sixty-nine remained. Jones stood up.
"Now I have to say goodbye." He said in a pleading tone.
"Farewell!" They said, "Hey, it's only eight thirty miles!" Do you have anything to do? ”
"Nothing," he admitted, and then asked in a sullen voice that he would be idle for six weeks, and then smiled bitterly.
At this moment, everyone found that the owner's precious son, the cute little mischievous ghost, hid Mr. Jones's hat, so the man said that Mr. Jones had to stay, so he asked Jones to smoke and chat together. The man smoked a cigarette while chatting with Jones, and Jones stayed again. He wanted to leave decisively all the time, but he couldn't. Later, the man began to get bored with Jones and became irritable, and he said sarcastically in reverse: Mr. Jones had better stay overnight, and they could build him a temporary shop. Jones misunderstood his intentions and thanked him with tears in his eyes. So the man settled him in an empty room, but cursed him fiercely in his heart.
After breakfast the next day, the man went to work in the city, leaving Jones to play with his baby son at home. Jones was heartbroken, he was completely discouraged. On this day, he had been thinking about leaving, but he was in a dilemma, so that he could not get out. The man returned from work in the evening and was surprised and annoyed to find That Jones was still lying at home. He wanted to make a joke and take Jones away, so he said: He thinks it's time to charge Mr. Jones for rent and food, hehe! The unfortunate young man was stunned for a while, then he held the man's hand tightly, paid him a month's worth of food and accommodation, and couldn't help but sob, like a child crying.
In the days that followed, he looked melancholy and inaccessible. Of course, he was bored in the living room all day, and due to the lack of fresh air and lack of exercise, his body soon seemed to be out of place. He spent his time drinking tea and looking at those pictures. He often stood for hours at a time, staring at photographs of the man's uncle's friend in a Bengali uniform — sometimes speaking to it, sometimes swearing poisonously to it. His mind was clearly beginning to malfunction.
Finally he collapsed. People carried him upstairs, and he had a terrible fever and was not at all delirious. Later, the condition worsened further, and it was terrible. He didn't know anyone, not even the man's uncle's friend in Bengali military uniform. Sometimes, he would sit up from his bed and scream, "Uh, I think..." and then fall back on his pillow with a creepy laugh. After a while, he would jump up again and shout, "Another cup of tea, some more pictures!" Get some more photos! Ha! Ha! ”
Finally, after a month of bitter torment, on the last day of his vacation, he died. People say that on his deathbed, he sat on the bed with a beautiful smile of confidence and said, "Oh – the angels are calling me, and I think I really should go." Good bye. ”
His soul broke free from the cell in which it was imprisoned, as fast as a hunted cat crossing the fence of the garden.
