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Updated: September 22, 2025


'I WOULD like you to see him in the bath, just once! He looks so And so on. The next day, Mr Blackshaw, that fearsome autocrat of the Municipal Electricity Works, was saying to himself all day that at five o'clock he was going to assist at the spectacle of his wonderful son's bath. The prospect inspired him.

And shortly after noon Mrs Blackshaw would be keeping an eye on the thermometer in the bedroom where the bath occurred. From four o'clock onwards the clocks in the house were spied on and overlooked like suspected persons; but they were used to that, because the baby had his sterilized milk every two hours. I have at length allowed you to penetrate the secret of his sex.

A few light wind-smitten clouds made wan streaks across the white sky, haggard with the fierce relentless glare of the afternoon sun. Weariness was written across my mother's delicate careworn features, and found expression in my father's knitted brows and dusty face. Blackshaw was weary, and said so, as he wiped the dust, made mud with perspiration, off his cheeks.

It's the dead-and-alivest hole I ever seen." "You'll git used to it by and by," said Blackshaw. "Used to it! A person 'ud hev to be brought up onder a hen to git used to the dullness of this hole." "You wasn't brought up under a hen, or it must have been a big Bramer Pooter, if you were," replied he, noting the liberal proportions of her figure as she hauled a couple of heavy pots off the fire.

I'm going to see that Kid's bath, and, what's more, I'm going to see it tomorrow. I don't care what happens. 'But how shall you manage to get away, darling? 'You will telephone me about a quarter of an hour before you're ready to begin, and I'll pretend it's something very urgent, and scoot off. 'Well, that will be lovely, darling! said Mrs Blackshaw.

What's his lady friend like? 'Not like anything. Unique! replied Mr Blackshaw. 'Young? came the voice. 'Dates from the thirties, said Mr Blackshaw. 'I'm coming. And rang off. 'I didn't know there was any electric machinery as old as that, said the mayoral aunt. 'We'll just look about us a bit, the Mayor remarked. 'Don't lose a moment, Mr Blackshaw.

At the same instant the electric light returned to Bursley. The current was resumed. 'That's better, said Mr Blackshaw, sighing. John and Robert Hessian, brothers, bachelors, and dressed in mourning, sat together after supper in the parlour of their house at the bottom of Oldcastle Street, Bursley. Maggie, the middle-aged servant, was clearing the table.

The worst of it was, he didn't know how to refuse the Mayor. Then the telephone-bell rang. 'Excuse me, said Mr Blackshaw, with admirably simulated politeness, going to the instrument. 'Are you there? Who is it? 'It's me, darling, came the thin voice of his wife far away at Bleakridge. 'The water's just getting hot. We're nearly ready. Can you come now? 'By Jove!

'I think you had better go, said Mrs Blackshaw, adding no term of endearment, and visibly controlling herself with difficulty. And Mr Blackshaw went. He had to go. He went out into the unelectric night. He headed for the Works, not because he cared twopence, at that moment, about the accident at the Works, whatever it was; but simply because the Works was the only place to go to.

After various expensive plans had been suggested, in the year 1879 a complete scheme for the supply of the town with water was devised by the then borough surveyor, Mr. Wm. Blackshaw, now borough surveyor of Stafford. These we now illustrate above by a general drawing, and a separate drawing of the tower. With respect to the mechanical arrangements, the Corporation called in Mr.

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