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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