The square is the meeting-place of five streets, and at the corner of each the paper was caught up in a draught that bore it along to the next.
Here, it may be thought, I gladly forgot the cause of my troubles, but I really watched the paper for days.

My doctor came in while I was still staring at it, and instead of prescribing more medicine, he made a bet with me.

It was that the scrap of paper would disappear before the dissolution of the government.

I said it would be fluttering around after the government was dissolved, and if I lost, the doctor was to get a new stethoscope.

If I won, my bill was to be accounted discharged.
Thus, strange as it seemed, I had now cause to take a friendly interest in paper that I had previously loathed.