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Farnol, Jeffery, 1878-1952

"Peregrine's Progress"

Here I
dismounted from my chastened steed, who, if a little blown, was no
whit distressed, and forthwith led him to the stables myself, to see
him rubbed down and cared for, the while a hissing ostler knocked,
shook and brushed from my garments clouds of Kentish dust. In the
midst of which performance up rode Anthony.
"Well--damme!" he exclaimed, as he swung to earth, "I said a
milestone--"
"True, Anthony, but I felt inclined for a gallop--"
"I believe you!" he laughed. "And now I'm more than inclined for a
pot, a tankard, a flagon, Perry--or say a dozen. Damme, I've been
breathing nothing but circumambient Kent for the last half-hour--Ale,
Perry, ale's the word! This way! And by that same token, here's your
money. 'T is a glorious beast, your Wildfire, and curst well ridden,
begad!"
"And I ride stones lighter than you do, Goliath!" said I, following
him into the sanded parlour.
"I never drink a tankard of ale," gasped Anthony, setting down his
vessel with a bang, "no, never, Perry, without remembering the first
drink we had together--the ale you paid for! And the ham and eggs--oh,
curse and confound it, I shall never taste anything so delicious
again, of course. Everything is vastly changed since then,
Peregrine--everything except yourself."
"I am two inches taller!" said I.
"Ah, to be sure! And, thanks to Jessamy Todd, a man of your hands.
What's become of Jessamy these days--and your friend the Tinker?"
"I shame to say I don't know.


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