Explore "Select Conversations with an Uncle, now Extintc" by H.G. Wells on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
My poor uncle came to me the other evening in a most distressful state, broken down to common blasphemy. His ample front was rumpled with sorrow and his tie disorderly aslant. His hair had gone rough with his troubles. "The time I have had, George! " he panted. "Give me something to drink in the name of Holy Charity."
Since the _Pall Mall Gazette_ took to reporting his little sayings about photographs and ornaments, ideals and fashions, he has been setting up as a conversationalist. He thinks he was designed by Providence to that end, and aids his destiny as much as he can by elaborately preparing remarks.