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Narrator's final resolve and wife's new, subtle tactic involving Mr. Scribe's residence

01KG8AJN53Q1X8PHNBQ0T8VY1D

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description
# Narrator's final resolve and wife's new, subtle tactic involving Mr. Scribe's residence ## Overview This segment, titled "Narrator's final resolve and wife's new, subtle tactic involving Mr. Scribe's residence," is an excerpt from the short story "[I and My Chimney](arke:01KG8AJ72QDX8N8STJ3550X2NW)". It spans lines 744 to 777 of the source text and was extracted from the file "[i_and_my_chimney.txt](arke:01KG89J1H4TA19251AXAPE3ZWC)". ## Context This segment is part of the larger collection "[Melville Complete Works](arke:01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW)". It follows the segment "[Mr. Scribe's return for an estimate and narrator's renewed resistance](arke:01KG8AJN4ZPSHC168HKXHHGB7M)" and precedes the segment "[Letter from Hiram Scribe](arke:01KG8AJN5MM0AE05S66NQSBYYJ)". ## Contents The narrator expresses his inability to part with his chimney, despite his wife's attempts to persuade him. His wife employs a subtle tactic, using the nickname "Holofernes" for him when he resists her "ambitious innovations." She further reinforces her point by reading newspaper accounts of domestic tyrants. However, for a few days, she remains unusually calm and frequently visits the residence of Mr. Scribe, an architect known for his ornate style. The segment concludes as the narrator receives a note from his wife.
description_generated_at
2026-01-30T20:48:01.386Z
description_model
gemini-2.5-flash-lite
description_title
Narrator's final resolve and wife's new, subtle tactic involving Mr. Scribe's residence
end_line
777
extracted_at
2026-01-30T20:47:36.358Z
extracted_by
structure-extraction-lambda
start_line
744
text
The truth is, resolve how I would, at the last pinch I and my chimney could not be parted. “So Holofernes will have his way, never mind whose heart breaks for it,” said my wife next morning, at breakfast, in that half-didactic, half-reproachful way of hers, which is harder to bear than her most energetic assault. Holofernes, too, is with her a pet name for any fell domestic despot. So, whenever, against her most ambitious innovations, those which saw me quite across the grain, I, as in the present instance, stand with however little steadfastness on the defence, she is sure to call me Holofernes, and ten to one takes the first opportunity to read aloud, with a suppressed emphasis, of an evening, the first newspaper paragraph about some tyrannic day-laborer, who, after being for many years the Caligula of his family, ends by beating his long-suffering spouse to death, with a garret door wrenched off its hinges, and then, pitching his little innocents out of the window, suicidally turns inward towards the broken wall scored with the butcher’s and baker’s bills, and so rushes headlong to his dreadful account. Nevertheless, for a few days, not a little to my surprise, I heard no further reproaches. An intense calm pervaded my wife, but beneath which, as in the sea, there was no knowing what portentous movements might be going on. She frequently went abroad, and in a direction which I thought not unsuspicious; namely, in the direction of New Petra, a griffin-like house of wood and stucco, in the highest style of ornamental art, graced with four chimneys in the form of erect dragons spouting smoke from their nostrils; the elegant modern residence of Mr. Scribe, which he had built for the purpose of a standing advertisement, not more of his taste as an architect, than his solidity as a master-mason. At last, smoking my pipe one morning, I heard a rap at the door, and my wife, with an air unusually quiet for her brought me a note. As I have
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Narrator's final resolve and wife's new, subtle tactic involving Mr. Scribe's residence

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