[Southeast] Hout him, he would go and look after his affairs. T

[Godbolt Desorcy]

Re always inviting him to join in. They called him "Johnny Bull," and invited him with excessive familiarity
to take a hand. At first he had endured
all this with good nature, but latterly he had shown by his manner that it was distinctly distasteful to him, and very soon he saw a change in the manner of these young people toward him. They
were souring
on him as they would have expressed it in their language. He had never been what might be called popular.
That was hardly the phrase for it; he had merely been liked,
but now dislike for him was growing. His case was not helped by the fact that he was out of luck, couldn't get work, didn't belong to a union, and couldn't gain admission
to one. He got a good many slights of that small ill-defined sort that you can't quite put your finger on, and it was manifest that there was only one thing which protected him from open insult, and that was his muscle. These young people had seen him exercising, mornings, after his cold sponge bath, and they had perceived by his performance
and the build of his body, that he was athletic, and also versed in boxing. He felt pretty naked now, recognizing that he was shorn of all respect except respect
for his fists. One night when he entered his room he found about
a dozen of the young fellows there carrying on a very lively conversation punctuated with horse-laughter. The talking ceased instantly, and the frank affront of a dead silence followed. He said, "Good evening gentlemen," and sat down. There was no response. He flushed to the temples but forced himself to maintain

silence. He sat there in this uncomfortable stillness some time, then got up and went out. The moment he had disappeared he heard a prodigio