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Farnol, Jeffery, 1878-1952

"Peregrine's Progress"


"Mr. Shrig, I should like to shake your hand," said I.
"'Eartily an' vith a vill, sir!" he answered.
"You see, I loved and honoured him also, Mr. Shrig."
"Verefore an' therefore, sir, I make bold to ask if you're partic'ler
busy to-day?"
"I am here to meet a friend and then I am for the country."
"Tonbridge vay, sir?"
"Yes, why do you ask?"
"Because I've a call thereabouts myself to-day, an' if you vas minded
to go along, I'd be honoured, sir, honoured."
"Thank you, Mr. Shrig, but--" I paused, for among the pile of unopened
letters I espied one addressed in a familiar hand and, breaking the
seal, read:
MY DEAR PERRY:
Strong drink is raging, so am I, and London is the devil! Temptation
dogs me, but a promise is a promise, so I have scuttled off
ignominiously. You will find me at the Chequers Inn, Tonbridge, if I
am not there to meet you, wait for me.
By the way, ale is exempt from your proscription, of course.
Yours to command now as ever,
ANTHONY VERE-MANVILLE.
"Mr. Shrig," said I, pocketing this letter, "when, pray, do you
propose to start Tonbridge way?"
"This werry moment, sir."
"Why, then I shall be happy to accompany you."
"Are ye ready, sir?"
"Quite; let us go!"
So side by side we stepped out into the street; here Mr. Shrig,
setting two fingers to his mouth, emitted a shrill whistle and round
the corner came a tilbury behind a likely-looking horse driven by a
red-faced man, who, at a sign from Mr.


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