Holmes and Watson are on their way back to Baker Street from a freshly wrapped-up case when they hear shrieking from around the corner, and naturally they charge around the corner to see what's happening. What's happening turns out to be a giant snake with a mirror for a face. They get the woman it has cornered out of the way, and Watson goes for his revolver, but before he can bring the snake down it gets its face over both of them and they're somewhere else.
Are there any patterns whatsoever in what collections of lines correspond to what meanings, or is it entirely arbitrary?
Then it has that advantage over memorizing the properties of three hundred kinds of tobacco ash. It's not as orderly as the Latin-derived names of every bone and muscle and nerve in the human body, and Watson will never complain about English orthography or Latin grammar again, but they both press on.
"Are there enough of those that it's possible to be illiterate without being a burden on society? I do still hope to open a practice here."
They keep up their lessons for the rest of the day, if Miriqua is willing. At some point they'll probably want to wander around outside getting used to voices and cadences other than hers, but it doesn't need to be this afternoon.
They can pick up on bits and pieces of conversations! Not as many as they could have in London, especially when the goods and services and social interactions are ones they don't have all the context for, but they're making progress.
As one pays attention one becomes aware of a pretty bright line between proles and everyone else. There are more proles than there are everyone elses, but the latter are more attention-getting, have more and livelier conversations, once a pair are glimpsed to have a child with them, they have more complicated social relationships. The proles have work, they mostly talk about work, they mostly socialize with either people they know through work or the geographically nearest prole socialization locale. It's not that they're dim or lifeless. They are bright, lively people who, as it happens, really enjoy making shoes or sweeping streets or cooking meals or doing laundry for fourteen hours a day.
They both love their work, but only what feels like a reasonable human amount; the proles are a bit unsettling. How much time do the other type of people seem to spend working?
Varies widely. Non-prole work is less suspicious to be really fascinated by, anyway - research, the arts, governance and diplomacy. Some professions seem to have a mix of prole and non-prole practitioners, including medicine. It seems perfectly respectable for someone understood to be well-made but not aimed at anything that would (in a society with money) constitute gainful employment to bop around trying various hobbies and dabbling in things while living off the delightedly-provided prole labor.
Watson would be far to embarrassed to do that sort of thing himself if there's any way he can get gainful employment instead, but Holmes will appreciate being able to continue his Bohemian lifestyle of research and the violin. Or more likely some novel foreign instrument, since finding an actual violin here seems implausible.
He can definitely describe a violin well enough, and will probably do that if it's that easy to get something custom. He will, however, resist the temptation until he has slightly more permanent lodging.