Tatterdemalion

Name: Tatterdemalion
Author: Galsworthy, John

Galsworthy, John

World War, 1914-1918 -- Fiction

The bell-ringer, Samuel Bevis, who took his place in the witness-box,
was a kind of elderly Bacchus, with permanently trembling hands. He
deposed as follows:

'When I passed rector Tuesday arternoon, he calls after me: "See this!"
'e says, and up 'e held it. "Bit o' dirrty bread," 'e says; "do for my
burrds." Then on he goes walkin'.'

'Did you see whether the loaf was dirty?'

'Yaas, I think 'twas dirrty.'

'Don't _think_! Do you _know_?'

'Yaas; 'twas dirrty.'

'Which side?'

'Which saide? I think 'twas dirrty on the bottom.'

'Are you sure?'

'Yaas; 'twas dirrty on the bottom, for zartain.'

'Very well. Stand down. Now, sir, will you give us your version of this
matter?'

The rector, pointing at the prosecutor and the left-hand aisle, jerked
out the words:

'All Chapel--want to see me down.'

The Chairman said stonily:

'Never mind that. Come to the facts, please.'

'Certainly! Out for a walk--passed the baker's cart--saw a loaf fallen
in the mud--picked it up--do for my birds.'

'What birds?'

'Magpie and two starlings; quite free--never shut the cage-door; well
fed.'

'The baker charges you with taking it from his cart.'

'Lie! Underneath the cart in a puddle.'

'You heard what your cook said about your eating it. Did you?'

'Yes, birds couldn't eat all--nothing in the house--Mother and
I--hungry.'

'Hungry?'

'No money. Hard up--very! Often hungry. Ha, ha!'

Again through the court that queer rustle passed. The three magistrates
gazed at the accused. Then 'the Honble' Calmady said:

'You say you found the loaf under the cart. Didn't it occur to you to
put it back? You could see it had fallen. How else could it have come
there?'

The rector's burning eyes seemed to melt.

'From the sky. Manna.' Staring round the court, he added: 'Hungry--God's
elect--to the manna born!' And, throwing back his head, he laughed. It
was the only sound in a silence as of the grave.

The magistrates spoke together in low tones. The rector stood
motionless, gazing at them fixedly. The people in the court sat as if at
a play. Then the Chairman said:

'Case dismissed.'

'Thank you.'

Jerking out that short thanksgiving, the rector descended from the dock,
and passed down the centre aisle, followed by every eye.


III

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

Opening the text

TatterdemalionGalsworthy, John

General

Tatterdemalion

Galsworthy, John

World War, 1914-1918 -- Fiction

The bell-ringer, Samuel Bevis, who took his place in the witness-box,
was a kind of elderly Bacchus, with permanently trembling hands. He
deposed as follows:

'When I passed rector Tuesday arternoon, he calls after me: "See this!"
'e says, and up 'e held it. "Bit o' dirrty bread," 'e says; "do for my
burrds." Then on he goes walkin'.'

'Did you see whether the loaf was dirty?'

'Yaas, I think 'twas dirrty.'

'Don't _think_! Do you _know_?'

'Yaas; 'twas dirrty.'

'Which side?'

'Which saide? I think 'twas dirrty on the bottom.'

'Are you sure?'

'Yaas; 'twas dirrty on the bottom, for zartain.'

'Very well. Stand down. Now, sir, will you give us your version of this
matter?'

The rector, pointing at the prosecutor and the left-hand aisle, jerked
out the words:

'All Chapel--want to see me down.'

The Chairman said stonily:

'Never mind that. Come to the facts, please.'

'Certainly! Out for a walk--passed the baker's cart--saw a loaf fallen
in the mud--picked it up--do for my birds.'

'What birds?'

'Magpie and two starlings; quite free--never shut the cage-door; well
fed.'

'The baker charges you with taking it from his cart.'

'Lie! Underneath the cart in a puddle.'

'You heard what your cook said about your eating it. Did you?'

'Yes, birds couldn't eat all--nothing in the house--Mother and
I--hungry.'

'Hungry?'

'No money. Hard up--very! Often hungry. Ha, ha!'

Again through the court that queer rustle passed. The three magistrates
gazed at the accused. Then 'the Honble' Calmady said:

'You say you found the loaf under the cart. Didn't it occur to you to
put it back? You could see it had fallen. How else could it have come
there?'

The rector's burning eyes seemed to melt.

'From the sky. Manna.' Staring round the court, he added: 'Hungry--God's
elect--to the manna born!' And, throwing back his head, he laughed. It
was the only sound in a silence as of the grave.

The magistrates spoke together in low tones. The rector stood
motionless, gazing at them fixedly. The people in the court sat as if at
a play. Then the Chairman said:

'Case dismissed.'

'Thank you.'

Jerking out that short thanksgiving, the rector descended from the dock,
and passed down the centre aisle, followed by every eye.


III

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

Tatterdemalion

Tatterdemalion

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