FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   77   78   79   80   81   82   83   84   85   86   87   88   89   90   91   92   93   94   95   96   97   98   99   100   101  
102   103   104   105   106   107   108   109   110   111   112   113   114   115   116   117   118   119   120   121   122   123   124   125   126   >>   >|  
nd turned to Drill. "It's no good spoiling the ship for a ha'porth o' tar," he said, with a faint suspicion of a wink. "No," said Drill, looking puzzled. "Anything that's worth doing at all is worth doing well," continued the constable, "and while I'm drinking another glass with Mr. Gunnill here, suppose you go into the kitchen with that useful bag o' yours and finish repairing my truncheon?" THE PERSECUTION OF BOB PRETTY The old man sat on his accustomed bench outside the Cauliflower. A generous measure of beer stood in a blue and white jug by his elbow, and little wisps of smoke curled slowly upward from the bowl of his churchwarden pipe. The knapsacks of two young men lay where they were flung on the table, and the owners, taking a noon-tide rest, turned a polite, if bored, ear to the reminiscences of grateful old age. Poaching, said the old man, who had tried topics ranging from early turnips to horseshoeing--poaching ain't wot it used to be in these 'ere parts. Nothing is like it used to be, poaching nor anything else; but that there man you might ha' noticed as went out about ten minutes ago and called me "Old Truthfulness" as 'e passed is the worst one I know. Bob Pretty 'is name is, and of all the sly, artful, deceiving men that ever lived in Claybury 'e is the worst--never did a honest day's work in 'is life and never wanted the price of a glass of ale. [Illustration: "Poaching," said the old man, "ain't wot it used to be in these 'ere parts."] Bob Pretty's worst time was just after old Squire Brown died. The old squire couldn't afford to preserve much, but by-and-by a gentleman with plenty o' money, from London, named Rockett, took 'is place and things began to look up. Pheasants was 'is favourites, and 'e spent no end o' money rearing of 'em, but anything that could be shot at suited 'im, too. He started by sneering at the little game that Squire Brown 'ad left, but all 'e could do didn't seem to make much difference; things disappeared in a most eggstrordinary way, and the keepers went pretty near crazy, while the things the squire said about Claybury and Claybury men was disgraceful. Everybody knew as it was Bob Pretty and one or two of 'is mates from other places, but they couldn't prove it. They couldn't catch 'im nohow, and at last the squire 'ad two keepers set off to watch 'im by night and by day. Bob Pretty wouldn't believe it; he said 'e couldn't. And even when it
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   77   78   79   80   81   82   83   84   85   86   87   88   89   90   91   92   93   94   95   96   97   98   99   100   101  
102   103   104   105   106   107   108   109   110   111   112   113   114   115   116   117   118   119   120   121   122   123   124   125   126   >>   >|  



Top keywords:

Pretty

 

couldn

 

squire

 
things
 
Claybury
 

keepers

 
Poaching
 

Squire

 

poaching

 

turned


gentleman
 

plenty

 

London

 

artful

 

spoiling

 
afford
 

preserve

 

Rockett

 

deceiving

 
wanted

suspicion

 
Illustration
 

Pheasants

 

honest

 

places

 

disgraceful

 

Everybody

 
wouldn
 

pretty

 

suited


started

 

rearing

 

sneering

 

disappeared

 

eggstrordinary

 

difference

 

favourites

 

passed

 

kitchen

 

churchwarden


upward

 

slowly

 

curled

 

knapsacks

 

owners

 

taking

 
repairing
 

finish

 

accustomed

 

truncheon