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Wells, H. G. (Herbert George), 1866-1946

"Twelve Stories and a Dream"


"'Yes,' I says--I couldn't 'elp it--'I put a lot in that rockery,'
I says, like that. See? 'I put a lot in that rockery'--meaning--"
"I see," said I--for Mr. Brisher is apt to overelaborate his jokes.
"_'E_ didn't," said Mr. Brisher. "Not then, anyhow.
"Ar'ever--after all that was over, off I set for London. . . .
Orf I set for London."
Pause.
"On'y I wasn't going to no London," said Mr. Brisher, with sudden
animation, and thrusting his face into mine. "No fear! What do YOU
think?
"I didn't go no further than Colchester--not a yard.
"I'd left the spade just where I could find it. I'd got everything
planned and right. I 'ired a little trap in Colchester, and pretended
I wanted to go to Ipswich and stop the night, and come back next
day, and the chap I 'ired it from made me leave two sovrings on it
right away, and off I set.
"I didn't go to no Ipswich neither.
"Midnight the 'orse and trap was 'itched by the little road that ran
by the cottage where 'e lived--not sixty yards off, it wasn't--and
I was at it like a good 'un. It was jest the night for such
games--overcast--but a trifle too 'ot, and all round the sky there
was summer lightning and presently a thunderstorm.


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