As Nippers, looking very sour and sulky, was departing, Turkey blandly
and deferentially approached.
"With submission, sir," said he, "yesterday I was thinking about
Bartleby here, and I think that if he would but prefer to take a quart
of good ale every day, it would do much towards mending him, and
enabling him to assist in examining his papers."
"So you have got the word too," said I, slightly excited.
"With submission, what word, sir," asked Turkey, respectfully crowding
himself into the contracted space behind the screen, and by so doing,
making me jostle the scrivener. "What word, sir?"
"I would prefer to be left alone here," said Bartleby, as if offended at
being mobbed in his privacy.
"_That's_ the word, Turkey," said I--"that's it."
"Oh, _prefer_? oh yes--queer word. I never use it myself. But, sir, as
I was saying, if he would but prefer--"
"Turkey," interrupted I, "you will please withdraw."
"Oh certainly, sir, if you prefer that I should."
― Sterling Clover (s_clover), Friday, 22 July 2005 23:30 (twenty-one years ago)