{"id":"01KG6YH0PGBF0RYCW7ZVA497CQ","cid":"bafkreicuzrabds4boheybfwyvlxocqwtlclmdqrzp6bwsp7bweelv54moe","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":2208,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T07:57:45.581Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 21","source_file":"01KG6YDD8GKW0DRD5H2MY1NRZ7","start_line":2129,"text":"bed. And well hadst thou deserved it, Jimmy, at that fair creature's\r\nhands; well merited to have the old eyes closed by woman's fairy\r\nfingers, who through life, in riches and in poverty, was still woman's\r\nsworn champion and devotee.\r\n\r\nI hardly know that I should mention here one little incident connected\r\nwith this young lady's ministrations, and poor Jimmy's reception of\r\nthem. But it is harm to neither; I will tell it.\r\n\r\nChancing to be in town, and hearing of Jimmy's illness, I went to\r\nsee him. And there in his lone attic I found the lovely ministrant.\r\nWithdrawing upon seeing another visitor, she left me alone with him.\r\nShe had brought some little delicacies, and also several books, of such\r\na sort as are sent by serious-minded well-wishers to invalids in a\r\nserious crisis. Now whether it was repugnance at being considered next\r\ndoor to death, or whether it was but the natural peevishment brought on\r\nby the general misery of his state; however it was, as the gentle girl\r\nwithdrew, Jimmy, with what small remains of strength were his, pitched\r\nthe books into the furthest corner, murmuring, \"Why will she bring me\r\nthis sad old stuff? Does she take me for a pauper? Thinks she to salve\r\na gentleman's heart with Poor Man's Plaster?\"\r\n\r\nPoor, poor Jimmy--God guard us all--poor Jimmy Rose!\r\n\r\nWell, well, I am an old man, and I suppose these tears I drop are\r\ndribblets from my dotage. But Heaven be praised, Jimmy needs no man's\r\npity now.\r\n\r\nJimmy Rose is dead!\r\n\r\nMeantime, as I sit within the parlor of the peacocks--that chamber from\r\nwhich his husky voice had come ere threatening me with the pistol--I\r\nstill must meditate upon his strange example, whereof the marvel is,\r\nhow after that gay, dashing, nobleman's career, he could be content\r\nto crawl through life, and peep about the marbles and mahoganies for\r\ncontumelious tea and toast, where once like a very Warwick he had\r\nfeasted the huzzaing world with Burgundy and venison.\r\n\r\nAnd every time I look at the wilted resplendence of those proud\r\npeacocks on the wall, I bethink me of the withering change in Jimmy's\r\nonce resplendent pride of state. But still again, every time I gaze\r\nupon those festoons of perpetual roses, mid which the faded peacocks\r\nhang, I bethink me of those undying roses which bloomed in ruined\r\nJimmy's cheek.\r\n\r\nTransplanted to another soil, all the unkind past forgot, God grant\r\nthat Jimmy's roses may immortally survive!\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nI AND MY CHIMNEY\r\n\r\n\r\nI and my chimney, two grey-headed old smokers, reside in the country.\r\nWe are, I may say, old settlers here; particularly my old chimney,\r\nwhich settles more and more every day.\r\n\r\nThough I always say, _I and my chimney_, as Cardinal Wolsey used to\r\nsay, \"_I and my King_,\" yet this egotistic way of speaking, wherein I\r\ntake precedence of my chimney, is hereby borne out by the facts; in\r\neverything, except the above phrase, my chimney taking precedence of me.\r\n\r\nWithin thirty feet of the turf-sided road, my chimney--a huge,\r\ncorpulent old Harry VIII of a chimney--rises full in front of me and\r\nall my possessions. Standing well up a hillside, my chimney, like Lord\r\nRosse's monster telescope, swung vertical to hit the meridian moon, is\r\nthe first object to greet the approaching traveler's eye, nor is it the\r\nlast which the sun salutes. My chimney, too, is before me in receiving\r\nthe first-fruits of the seasons. The snow is on its head ere on my hat;\r\nand every spring, as in a hollow beech tree, the first swallows build\r\ntheir nests in it.\r\n\r\nBut it is within doors that the pre-eminence of my chimney is most\r\nmanifest. When in the rear room, set apart for that object, I stand\r\nto receive my guests (who, by the way call more, I suspect, to see\r\nmy chimney than me) I then stand, not so much before, as, strictly\r\nspeaking, behind my chimney, which is, indeed, the true host. Not that\r\nI demur. In the presence of my betters, I hope I know my place.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 21"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG6YGBGJFFWM00TFQS297SSV","peer_type":"segment","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG6YDD8GKW0DRD5H2MY1NRZ7","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG6YCG626JN4FCG8QK17CQCF","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG6YH0PGC4Z3PKS3856HTN0P","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG6YH0PG83VY1K8DS07ZPWHN","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T07:57:47.600Z","ts":"2026-01-30T07:57:53.590Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}