L2-1-1

I am an old lawyer, and I have three men working for me.

My business continued to grow, and so I decided to get one more man to help write legal papers.

I have met a great many people in my days, but the man who answered my advertisement was

the strangest person I have ever heard of or met.

He stood outside my office and waited for me to speak.

He was a small man, quiet, and dressed in a clean but old suit of clothes.

I asked him his name. It was Bartleby.

At first Bartleby almost worked himself too hard, writing the legal papers I gave him.

He worked through the day by sunlight and into the night by candlelight.

I was happy with his work, but not happy with the way he worked. He was too quiet.

But he worked well, like a machine never looking or speaking.

One day I asked Bartleby to come to my office to study a legal paper with me.

Without moving from his chair Bartleby said, I do not want to. I sat for a short time too surprised to move.

Then I became excited. You do not want to. What do you mean? Are you sick?

I want you to help me with this paper. I do not want to.

His face was calm. His eyes showed no emotion. He was not angry.

This is strange, I thought. What should I do?

But the telephone rang and I forgot the problem for the time being.

A few days later four long documents came into the office. They needed careful study, and I decided to give one document to each of my men.

I called and all came to my office. But not Bartleby.

Bartleby quick, I am waiting. He came and stood in front of me for a moment.

I don't want to, he said, then turned and went back to his desk.

I was so surprised I could not move. There was something about Bartleby that froze me, yet at the same time made me feel sorry.

Sorry for him.