Adventure stories; England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Love stories; Young men -- Fiction
"Wot O, my Lord, wot O! You in the nobby 'at an' patched
unmentionables--wot O! Walk up, Tom-noddy, my lord, walk up and spend
a tanner; never mind your breeches, walk up an' see the stoopendious
fat feller as could swaller ye, breeches, patches, 'at an' all, an'
never blink a heyelid--a man as can swaller 'is wight in meat
alone--in meat alone!
Walk up, my lord, an' see Franko
Breeches or no, my lord, breeches or no!"
This sorry and meaningless jingle set the immediate crowd in a roar. I
became an object for ribald laughter and cheers; I was pushed and
hustled, albeit good-naturedly enough, but none the less to my great
annoyance, so that I made all haste to wriggle away and, espying a
narrow lane between these canvas booths and tents, I slipped into it,
took to my heels and turning a sharp corner in full career, came thus
upon an ancient man who sat upon a box, puffing serenely at a long
pipe and who, despite my so sudden appearance, merely glanced at me
with a pair of keen, bright eyes and wished me "Good-day." Hereupon I
stopped and, because I had very nearly upset him, took off my hat,
bowed, and humbly craved his pardon; at this he gave me a second and
keener glance and uncovering his white head, returned my salute with
grave punctilio.
He was a slight, spare old man habited in shabby garments of a quaint,
old-world fashion, but in his upright carriage was an impressive
dignity, in his vigorous gestures, quick eyes and strongly marked,
resolute features an air of command, a latent power very arresting.
"I fear I startled you, sir!" said I.
"I am not readily startled," he answered, "though indeed this very
afternoon I was beset by gipsy rogues hereabouts and rescued from
their clutches by a young Amazon of a remarkable beauty and a rare
intelligence. Youth is ever impetuous, though I trust your so
passionate speed does not argue depredations upon your neighbour's
goods; you are not a runaway pickpocket, I hope?"
"Indeed, no, sir!" I answered, and briefly narrated the reason of my
flight.
"Hum!" ejaculated the aged person and sat puffing his pipe and
regarding me with such close scrutiny that I grew a little uneasy.
"I trust that you believe me, sir?" said I.
"Entirely, sir!" he answered with a quick, decisive nod. "For I
perceive that you are a gentleman. Therefore, if you have the time and
inclination, pray sit down and let us talk awhile."
"Willingly, sir," said I, seating myself upon the grass, "for it is at
least quieter here, and I will confess the crowd with its tumultuous
turmoil and sordid vulgarity offends me greatly."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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