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Quiller-Couch, Arthur Thomas, Sir, 1863-1944

"News from the Duchy"

He knew they had been baiting a bull in a field at the
head of the town, and, the thought coming into his head that the
animal must have broken loose, he hopped off his bench, ran fore to
the front door, and peeked his head out cautious-like.
What does he see coming down the street in the dusk but half a dozen
sailor-men with an officer in charge! Of course he knew the meaning
of it at once. 'Twas a press-gang off one of the ships in Hamoaze or
the Sound, that was choosing Regatta Night to raid the streets and
had landed at the back of the town and climbed over the hill to take
the crowds by surprise. They'd made but a poor fist of this, by
reason of the officer letting his gang get out of hand at the start;
and by their gait 'twas pretty plain they had collared a plenty of
liquor up the street. But while Hancock peeped out, taking stock of
them, a nasty monkey-notion crept into his head, and took hold of all
his spiteful little nature; and says he, pushing the door a bit wider
as the small officer--he was little taller than a midshipman--came
swearing by:
"Beg your pardon, Sir!"
"You'd best take in your head and close the door upon it," snaps the
little officer.


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