So he who speaks of another as being "as poor as a
church-mouse" does a grave injustice to a really prosperous creature,
despite the fact that it lives in a church and is employed in the
rather dubious occupation of supporting a figure of speech. Look
carefully into the present law of economics, if you please, and then
grant the church-mouse the benefit of the doubt.
Mr. Bingle's flat could be found by traversing a very mean street in
the lower east side not far removed from the Third Avenue Elevated
tracks. Discovery required the mounting of four flights of stairs by
foot, and two turns to the right in following the course of the
narrow, dark hallway which led in a round-about sort of way to a fire
escape that invited a quicker and less painful death than destruction
by flames in case one had to choose between the two means of
perishing.
Four rooms and a kitchen was all that Mr. Bingle's flat amounted to.
The four rooms contained beds; in the kitchen there was a collapsible
cot. In one of the rooms (ordinarily it would have been the parlour),
there was a somewhat futile sheet-iron stove in which soft coal or
wood could be used provided the wind was in the right direction.
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