![]() I told him I gave the prison guard money to buy him a good dinner. “But I didn’t put you here, Bartleby.” I was deeply hurt. I found him there, and when he saw me he said: “I know you, and I have nothing to say to you.” When I entered my office later, I found a message for me. I rode around the city and visited places of historic interest, anything to get Bartleby off my mind. He answered softly, “No, I do not want to make any changes.” “Bartleby, will you come home with me and stay there until we decide what you will do?” I will get you a different job, or you can go to work for some other lawyer.” “Bartleby, one of two things must happen. I went back to my old office and found Bartleby sitting on the empty floor. We tried to make him leave, but he returned and troubles the others there. The owner of the building has given me a court order which says you must take him away. “You are responsible for the man you left in your last office,” he said. It dropped to the floor and then, strange to say, I had difficulty leaving the person I wanted to leave me.Ī few days later, a stranger visited me in my new office. Here take this money.” I placed it in his hands. Bartleby just stood there as the men took his chair away. I paid some men to move all the office furniture to another place. “Well, Bartleby, if you will not leave me, I shall leave you.” I tried to open the door, but it was locked. The next morning, I went to the office early. On the sixth day, somewhat hopefully, I looked into the office Bartleby used. I gave him six days to leave the office and told him I would give him some extra money. Then why should he stay on his job? I decided to tell him to go. What was I to do? Bartleby would not work at all. “I have decided not to write anymore,” he said. I sat down with him and said, “You do not have to tell me about your personal history, but when you finish writing that document… “Bartleby, will you tell me anything about yourself?” The next morning I called him to my office. How lonely and friendless Bartleby must be. But for some time he must have eaten, dressed and slept there. Was anything wrong? I did not for a moment believe Bartleby would keep a woman in my office. I slunk away much like a dog does when it has been shouted at…with its tail between its legs. The idea of Bartleby living in my law office had a strange effect on me. He came from his office and told me he did not want to let me in. I stood a little surprised, then called, thinking someone might be inside. When I placed the key in the door, I couldn’t open it. One Sunday I walked to my office to do some work. One important thing about him though, he is always in his office. Let’s see, the problem here is…one of my workers named Bartleby will not do some of the things I ask him to do. I walked back to my office too shocked to think. “Please go to the post office and bring my mail.” “Poor fellow!” He is a little foolish at times, but he is useful to me. At eleven o’clock each morning, one of the men would bring Bartleby some ginger cakes. There was something about Bartleby that froze me, yet, at the same time, made me feel sorry for him.Īs time passed, I saw that Bartleby never went out to eat dinner. “I don’t want to,” he said then turned and went back to his desk. He came, and stood in front of me for a moment. They needed careful study, and I decided to give one document to each of my men. What should I do? But, the telephone rang, and I forgot the problem for the time being.Ī few days later, four long documents came into the office. What do you mean, are you sick? I want you to help me with this paper.” I sat for a short time, too surprised to move. Without moving from his chair, Bartleby said: “I do not want to.” One day, I asked Bartleby to come to my office to study a legal paper with me. But, he worked well…like a machine, never looking or speaking. I was happy with his work, but not happy with the way he worked. He worked through the day by sunlight, and into the night by candlelight. It was Bartleby.Īt first Bartleby almost worked himself too hard writing the legal papers I gave him. He was a small man, quiet and dressed in a clean but old suit of clothes. He stood outside my office and waited for me to speak. 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. ![]() My business continued to grow and so I decided to get one more man to help write legal papers. SHEP O’NEAL: I am an old lawyer, and I have three men working for me. Here is Shep O’Neal to tell you the story in Special English. Our story this week is called “Bartleby." It was written by Herman Melville, one of America’s best-known writers. SHIRLEY GRIFFITH: Now, the Special English program, AMERICAN STORIES.
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