Maximum-assistance view: every word above everyday vocabulary is explained at every appearance; each name is introduced at its first appearance in the chapter.

Chapter 1.

Mr. Sherlock Holmes

Mr. Sherlock Holmes, who was usually very late in the mornings (who as a rule came down very late in the morning), save upon those not infrequent occasions when he was up all night (except on those far from rare times when he had not been to bed at all), was seated at the breakfast table (was sitting at the morning meal table). I stood upon the hearth-rug (I stood on the mat in front of the fireplace) and picked up the stick which our visitor had left behind him the night before (and picked up the walking stick our caller had left behind the night before). It was a fine, thick piece of wood, bulbous-headed (It was a good, heavy piece of wood with a rounded swelling at the top), of the sort which is known as a “Penang lawyer.” (of the kind called a Penang lawyer, a heavy cane cut from a palm in the East.) Just under the head was a broad silver band nearly an inch across (Just below the top was a wide silver ring nearly an inch deep). “To James Mortimer, M.R.C.S., from his friends of the C.C.H.,” was engraved upon it (Cut into it were the words: to James Mortimer, member of the Royal College of Surgeons, from his friends of the C.C.H.), with the date “1884.” It was just such a stick as the old-fashioned family practitioner used to carry (It was exactly the stick the family doctor of an older day used to carry)—dignified, solid, and reassuring (full of quiet worth, heavy, and comforting to see).

“Well, Watson, what do you make of it?” (“Well, Watson, what do you take it to mean?”)

Holmes was sitting with his back to me (Holmes had his back turned to me), and I had given him no sign of my occupation (and nothing had been said or done by me to show what I was busy with).

“How did you know what I was doing? I believe you have eyes in the back of your head (You must have eyes in the back of your head, I believe).”

“I have, at least, a well-polished, silver-plated coffee-pot in front of me,” (“What I have in front of me, at least, is a coffee pot with a bright silver-covered surface,”) said he. “But, tell me, Watson, what do you make of our visitor’s stick? Since we have been so unfortunate as to miss him and have no notion of his errand (Since we had the bad luck to miss him and have no idea what he came about), this accidental souvenir becomes of importance (this thing left behind by chance becomes important). Let me hear you reconstruct the man by an examination of it (Let me hear you build the man up again by studying it).”

“I think,” said I, following as far as I could the methods of my companion (going as far as I could in the way my friend works), “that Dr. Mortimer is a successful, elderly medical man (that Dr Mortimer is a doctor doing well and getting on in years), well-esteemed since those who know him give him this mark of their appreciation (well thought of, since the people who know him give him this sign that they value him).”

“Good!” said Holmes. “Excellent!”

“I think also that the probability is in favour of his being a country practitioner (that the chances are he is a doctor working in the countryside) who does a great deal of his visiting on foot (who walks to see most of the sick people in his care).”

“Why so?”

“Because this stick, though originally a very handsome one has been so knocked about (though it was a very fine one to begin with, has been so battered) that I can hardly imagine a town practitioner carrying it (that a town doctor carrying it is hard to picture). The thick-iron ferrule is worn down (The thick iron cap on the bottom end has been worn away), so it is evident that he has done a great amount of walking with it (so it is plain that a great deal of walking has been done with it).”

“Perfectly sound!” (“Perfectly good reasoning!”) said Holmes.

“And then again, there is the ‘friends of the C.C.H.’ I should guess that to be the Something Hunt (My guess is that it stands for the Something Hunt, a club that rides after foxes), the local hunt to whose members he has possibly given some surgical assistance (the hunt club near him, whose members he may have helped with wounds and operations), and which has made him a small presentation in return (and which has given him a small gift in return).”

“Really, Watson, you excel yourself,” (“Truly, Watson, you go beyond your own best,”) said Holmes, pushing back his chair and lighting a cigarette (pushing his chair back and lighting a rolled tobacco). “I am bound to say that in all the accounts which you have been so good as to give of my own small achievements (in all the written stories you have been kind enough to make of my own small pieces of work) you have habitually underrated your own abilities (you have always made too little of what you can do). It may be that you are not yourself luminous, but you are a conductor of light (It may be that no light comes out of you, but light passes through you). Some people without possessing genius have a remarkable power of stimulating it (Some people, without the great gift themselves, have an unusual power of waking it in others). I confess, my dear fellow, that I am very much in your debt (I own, my dear friend, that a great deal is owed to you by me).”

He had never said as much before (He had never said so much before), and I must admit that his words gave me keen pleasure (and I must own that his words gave me sharp pleasure), for I had often been piqued by his indifference to my admiration (for I had often been stung by how little he cared that I admired him) and to the attempts which I had made to give publicity to his methods (and how little he cared for my efforts to make his ways of working known). I was proud, too, to think that I had so far mastered his system (I was proud, too, to think that his system had been learned by me so far) as to apply it in a way which earned his approval (as to use it in a way that won his good word). He now took the stick from my hands and examined it for a few minutes with his naked eyes (and looked it over for a few minutes with no glass to help). Then with an expression of interest he laid down his cigarette, and carrying the cane to the window, he looked over it again with a convex lens (and taking the stick to the window, he went over it again with a curved magnifying glass).

“Interesting, though elementary,” (“Interesting, though of the simplest kind,”) said he as he returned to his favourite corner of the settee (as he went back to his favourite corner of the long padded seat). “There are certainly one or two indications upon the stick (There are one or two signs on the stick, without doubt). It gives us the basis for several deductions (It gives us the ground for working several things out).”

“Has anything escaped me?” I asked with some self-importance (“Has anything got past me?” I asked, rather pleased with myself). “I trust that there is nothing of consequence which I have overlooked? (Nothing of any weight has been missed by me, I hope?)”

“I am afraid, my dear Watson, that most of your conclusions were erroneous (that most of the things you settled on were wrong). When I said that you stimulated me I meant, to be frank (When I said you woke my mind, what I meant, to be honest), that in noting your fallacies I was occasionally guided towards the truth (that in marking where your reasoning went wrong I was now and then pointed towards the truth). Not that you are entirely wrong in this instance (Not that you are wholly wrong in this case). The man is certainly a country practitioner. And he walks a good deal.”

“Then I was right.”

“To that extent.” (“That far, and no further.”)

“But that was all.”

“No, no, my dear Watson, not all—by no means all (not all of it, and nothing like all of it). I would suggest, for example, that a presentation to a doctor is more likely to come from a hospital than from a hunt (Here is one thing: a gift to a doctor is likelier to come from a hospital than from a hunt club), and that when the initials ‘C.C.’ are placed before that hospital (and that when the letters C.C. stand before the word hospital) the words ‘Charing Cross’ very naturally suggest themselves (the words Charing Cross, a place in London, come to mind of themselves).”

“You may be right.”

“The probability lies in that direction. (“The chances point that way.) And if we take this as a working hypothesis (And if we take that as an idea to work from for now) we have a fresh basis from which to start our construction of this unknown visitor (we have new ground on which to start building up this caller we do not know).”

“Well, then, supposing that ‘C.C.H.’ does stand for ‘Charing Cross Hospital,’ what further inferences may we draw? (what more can be worked out from it?)”

“Do none suggest themselves? You know my methods. Apply them!” (“Does nothing come to mind? You know my ways of working. Use them!”)

“I can only think of the obvious conclusion that the man has practised in town before going to the country (the plain answer that the man worked as a doctor in the town before he went to the countryside).”

“I think that we might venture a little farther than this. (“I think we might go a little further than that.) Look at it in this light. On what occasion would it be most probable that such a presentation would be made? (At what moment would such a gift most likely be given?) When would his friends unite to give him a pledge of their good will? (When would his friends join together to give him a token of their kind feeling?) Obviously at the moment when Dr. Mortimer withdrew from the service of the hospital (Plainly at the moment Dr Mortimer left the hospital's employment) in order to start a practice for himself (so as to set up in doctoring on his own). We know there has been a presentation. We believe there has been a change from a town hospital to a country practice (We believe there has been a move from a town hospital to doctoring in the countryside). Is it, then, stretching our inference too far (Is it, then, pushing our reasoning too far) to say that the presentation was on the occasion of the change?”

“It certainly seems probable.”

“Now, you will observe that he could not have been on the staff of the hospital (Now you will notice he cannot have been one of the hospital's senior doctors), since only a man well-established in a London practice could hold such a position (since only a man with a firm London practice could hold such a place), and such a one would not drift into the country (and a man like that would not wander off to the countryside). What was he, then? If he was in the hospital and yet not on the staff he could only have been a house-surgeon or a house-physician (he can only have been a junior doctor living in at the hospital)—little more than a senior student (hardly more than a student in his last years). And he left five years ago—the date is on the stick. So your grave, middle-aged family practitioner vanishes into thin air (So your serious family doctor of middle age disappears into nothing), my dear Watson, and there emerges a young fellow under thirty, amiable, unambitious, absent-minded (and out comes a young man under thirty, warm-natured, with no push to rise, and forgetful of what is in front of him), and the possessor of a favourite dog (and the owner of a dog he is fond of), which I should describe roughly as being larger than a terrier and smaller than a mastiff (which I would put roughly as bigger than a small hunting dog and smaller than a great guard dog).”

I laughed incredulously (I laughed, unable to believe it) as Sherlock Holmes leaned back in his settee and blew little wavering rings of smoke up to the ceiling (and blew little shaky rings of smoke up at the ceiling).

“As to the latter part, I have no means of checking you,” (“As for the last of that, there is no way for me to test it,”) said I, “but at least it is not difficult to find out a few particulars about the man’s age and professional career (but at least a few facts about the man's age and working life are easy to find).” From my small medical shelf I took down the Medical Directory (From my small shelf of doctors' books I took down the list of all doctors) and turned up the name. There were several Mortimers (There were a number of men named Mortimer), but only one who could be our visitor (but only one who could be our caller). I read his record aloud (I read out what was set down about him).

“Mortimer, James, M.R.C.S., 1882, Grimpen, Dartmoor, Devon (Grimpen, on Dartmoor, in Devon, a wild high moorland in the south-west of England). House-surgeon, from 1882 to 1884, at Charing Cross Hospital (Junior surgeon living in at Charing Cross Hospital from 1882 to 1884). Winner of the Jackson prize for Comparative Pathology (Winner of the Jackson prize for the study of disease across different kinds of living thing), with essay entitled ‘Is Disease a Reversion?’ (with a written paper called: Is Disease a Going Back to an Earlier Form?) Corresponding member of the Swedish Pathological Society (A member by letter of the Swedish society for the study of disease). Author of ‘Some Freaks of Atavism’ (Writer of: Some Strange Cases of Throwing Back to Ancestors) (Lancet 1882). ‘Do We Progress?’ (Journal of Psychology, March, 1883) (in the Journal of Psychology, the study of the mind, March 1883). Medical Officer for the parishes of Grimpen, Thorsley, and High Barrow (Doctor in charge of public health for the church districts of Grimpen, Thorsley and High Barrow).”

“No mention of that local hunt, Watson,” said Holmes with a mischievous smile (said Holmes with a teasing smile), “but a country doctor, as you very astutely observed (but a countryside doctor, as you very sharply noticed). I think that I am fairly justified in my inferences (I think what I worked out stands up well enough). As to the adjectives (As for the describing words), I said, if I remember right, amiable, unambitious, and absent-minded. It is my experience that it is only an amiable man in this world who receives testimonials (What I have seen is that only a warm-natured man in this world is given such gifts of thanks), only an unambitious one who abandons a London career for the country (only a man with no push to rise gives up a London career for the countryside), and only an absent-minded one who leaves his stick and not his visiting-card after waiting an hour in your room (and only a forgetful one leaves his stick behind, and not his calling card, after an hour of waiting in your room).”

“And the dog?”

“Has been in the habit of carrying this stick behind his master. (“Has been in the way of carrying this stick along behind the man who owns him.) Being a heavy stick the dog has held it tightly by the middle (the dog has gripped it hard in the middle), and the marks of his teeth are very plainly visible (and the marks of his teeth show very clearly). The dog’s jaw, as shown in the space between these marks (The width of the dog's mouth, shown by the gap between those marks), is too broad in my opinion for a terrier and not broad enough for a mastiff (is too wide, to my mind, for a small hunting dog, and not wide enough for a great guard dog). It may have been—yes, by Jove, it is a curly-haired spaniel (yes, upon my word, it is a curly-haired spaniel, a middle-sized dog with long soft ears that hang down).”

He had risen and paced the room as he spoke (He had got up and walked to and fro across the room as he spoke). Now he halted in the recess of the window (Now he stopped in the set-back space of the window). There was such a ring of conviction in his voice (There was so sure a sound in his voice) that I glanced up in surprise.

“My dear fellow, how can you possibly be so sure of that?”

“For the very simple reason that I see the dog himself on our very door-step (“For the plainest of reasons: the dog himself is there on our own doorstep), and there is the ring of its owner (and that is the doorbell of the man who owns him). Don’t move, I beg you, Watson. He is a professional brother of yours (He follows the same calling as you), and your presence may be of assistance to me (and your being here may be a help to me). Now is the dramatic moment of fate, Watson (This is the moment when fate steps onto the stage, Watson), when you hear a step upon the stair which is walking into your life (when you hear a footstep on the stairs that is walking into your life), and you know not whether for good or ill (and you cannot tell whether it brings good or harm). What does Dr. James Mortimer, the man of science, ask of Sherlock Holmes, the specialist in crime (the man whose one field is wrongdoing)? Come in!”

The appearance of our visitor was a surprise to me (How our caller looked came as a surprise to me), since I had expected a typical country practitioner (since a countryside doctor of the usual sort was what I had looked for). He was a very tall, thin man, with a long nose like a beak, which jutted out between two keen, grey eyes (with a long nose like a bird's, sticking out between two sharp grey eyes), set closely together and sparkling brightly from behind a pair of gold-rimmed glasses (set close together and shining brightly behind eyeglasses with gold edges). He was clad in a professional but rather slovenly fashion (His clothes were those of his calling, but worn in a careless, messy way), for his frock-coat was dingy and his trousers frayed (for his long coat was dull with dirt and his trousers worn ragged at the edges). Though young, his long back was already bowed (Though he was young, his long back was already bent), and he walked with a forward thrust of his head and a general air of peering benevolence (and he walked with his head pushed forward and a look all over him of kindly short-sighted staring). As he entered his eyes fell upon the stick in Holmes’s hand, and he ran towards it with an exclamation of joy (and he ran at it with a cry of gladness). “I am so very glad,” said he. “I was not sure whether I had left it here or in the Shipping Office (I could not be sure whether it was left here or at the office where ships are dealt with). I would not lose that stick for the world (Losing that stick is the last thing I would want).”

“A presentation, I see,” (“A gift given in thanks, I see,”) said Holmes.

“Yes, sir.”

“From Charing Cross Hospital?”

“From one or two friends there on the occasion of my marriage.” (“From one or two friends there when I was married.”)

“Dear, dear, that’s bad!” (“Dear me, that is a pity!”) said Holmes, shaking his head.

Dr. Mortimer blinked through his glasses in mild astonishment (blinked behind his eyeglasses in mild surprise). “Why was it bad?”

“Only that you have disarranged our little deductions. (“Only that you have upset the little chain of reasoning we had built.) Your marriage, you say?”

“Yes, sir. I married, and so left the hospital, and with it all hopes of a consulting practice (and with it every hope of the higher kind of doctoring for which patients are sent to you). It was necessary to make a home of my own (A home of my own had to be made).”

“Come, come, we are not so far wrong, after all,” (“Well, well, we are not so very wrong after all,”) said Holmes. “And now, Dr. James Mortimer—”

“Mister, sir, Mister—a humble M.R.C.S.” (“Mister, sir, Mister, only a plain member of the Royal College of Surgeons.”)

“And a man of precise mind, evidently.” (“And a man whose mind holds to the exact word, plainly.”)

“A dabbler in science, Mr. Holmes (“One who only paddles at the edge of science, Mr Holmes), a picker up of shells on the shores of the great unknown ocean (one who gathers shells on the beach of the great unknown sea). I presume that it is Mr. Sherlock Holmes whom I am addressing (I take it that it is Mr Sherlock Holmes I am speaking to) and not—”

“No, this is my friend Dr. Watson.”

“Glad to meet you, sir. I have heard your name mentioned in connection with that of your friend (Your name has been spoken to me alongside your friend's). You interest me very much, Mr. Holmes. I had hardly expected so dolichocephalic a skull (I had hardly looked for a head bone so long from front to back) or such well-marked supra-orbital development (or such a strongly formed ridge above the eye sockets). Would you have any objection to my running my finger along your parietal fissure? (Would you mind my running a finger along the join in the side of your skull?) A cast of your skull, sir, until the original is available (A shaped copy of your skull, sir, until the real one can be had), would be an ornament to any anthropological museum (would be a fine thing in any museum of the study of humankind). It is not my intention to be fulsome (It is not my aim to lay the praise on too thick), but I confess that I covet your skull (but I own that your skull is a thing I long to have).”

Sherlock Holmes waved our strange visitor into a chair (waved our odd caller towards a chair). “You are an enthusiast in your line of thought, I perceive, sir, as I am in mine,” (“You burn for your own line of study, I see, sir, as I do for mine,”) said he. “I observe from your forefinger that you make your own cigarettes (I notice from your first finger that you roll your own tobacco). Have no hesitation in lighting one (Do not hold back from lighting one).”

The man drew out paper and tobacco and twirled the one up in the other with surprising dexterity (and rolled the one up in the other with surprising skill of hand). He had long, quivering fingers as agile and restless as the antennæ of an insect (His fingers were long and trembling, as quick and never-still as an insect's feelers).

Holmes was silent, but his little darting glances showed me the interest which he took in our curious companion (but the small quick looks he threw showed me how much our odd companion interested him). “I presume, sir,” said he at last, “that it was not merely for the purpose of examining my skull (that it was not only to look over my skull) that you have done me the honour to call here last night and again today (that you have paid me the compliment of calling last night and again today)?”

“No, sir, no; though I am happy to have had the opportunity of doing that as well. I came to you, Mr. Holmes, because I recognized that I am myself an unpractical man (because it is clear to me that I am no good at handling real matters) and because I am suddenly confronted with a most serious and extraordinary problem (and because a most grave and most unusual problem has come at me all at once). Recognizing, as I do, that you are the second highest expert in Europe (that you are the second greatest master of this work in Europe)—”

“Indeed, sir! May I inquire who has the honour to be the first?” (“Is that so, sir! May I ask who holds the honour of being the first?”) asked Holmes with some asperity (asked Holmes with a certain sharpness).

“To the man of precisely scientific mind the work of Monsieur Bertillon must always appeal strongly.” (“To the man whose mind is exact and scientific, the work of Monsieur Bertillon, who measured criminals in Paris, must always have a strong pull.”)

“Then had you not better consult him?”

“I said, sir, to the precisely scientific mind. But as a practical man of affairs it is acknowledged that you stand alone (But as a man who gets real things done, it is agreed that nobody comes near you). I trust, sir, that I have not inadvertently— (I hope, sir, that without meaning it I have not—)”

“Just a little,” said Holmes. “I think, Dr. Mortimer, you would do wisely if without more ado you would kindly tell me plainly (you would be wise to make no more fuss and tell me plainly) what the exact nature of the problem is in which you demand my assistance (what exactly the trouble is that you are asking my help with).”