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Updated: May 7, 2025
Gunnill assured them that only his known antipathy to the army, and the fear of being regarded as one of its followers, prevented him from doing so. He paid instead a fine of ten shillings, and after listening to a sermon, in which his silver hairs served as the text, was permitted to depart. His feeling against Police-constable Cooper increased with the passing of the days.
"Oh!" she said, listlessly. "And I see you making a very good breakfast all by yourself in the kitchen," continued her father, in a voice not free from the taint of triumph. The discomfited Selina rose and stood regarding him; Mr. Gunnill, after a vain attempt to meet her gaze, busied himself with his meal.
There was a smart rap at the street door, then the handle was turned, and the next moment, to the dismay of all present, the red and angry face of one of Mr. Cooper's brother-constables was thrust into the room. Mr. Gunnill gazed at it in helpless fascination.
"Anything that's worth doing at all is worth doing well," continued the constable, "and while I'm drinking another glass with Mr. Gunnill here, suppose you go into the kitchen with that useful bag o' yours and finish repairing my truncheon?" The old man sat on his accustomed bench outside the Cauliflower.
Cooper, instead o' putting it about that she looked young enough to be his mother, it wouldn't have happened." His daughter shook her head impatiently and, on Mr. Gunnill making an allusion to breakfast, expressed surprise that he had got the heart to eat any-thing. Mr.
Gunnill smiled broadly as he met their astonished gaze, and with a final bound kicked something along the floor and subsided into his seat panting. Mr. Sims, suddenly enlightened, uttered a cry of dismay and, darting under the table, picked up what had once been a policeman's helmet.
"Of course, I shall have to wait my opportunity," he said, at last. "You wait as long as you like, my boy," said the thoughtless Mr. Gunnill. Mr. Sims thanked him. "Wait till Cooper's an old man," urged Mr. Drill. Miss Gunnill, secretly disappointed at the lack of boldness and devotion on the part of the latter gentleman, eyed his stalwart frame indignantly and accused him of trying to make Mr.
They ran to the room and stood aghast in the doorway at the spectacle of Mr. Gunnill, with his clenched fists held tightly by his side, bounding into the air with all the grace of a trained acrobat, while Mr. Drill encouraged him from an easy-chair. Mr.
Then he snatched a partially consumed truncheon from the fire, and stood white and trembling before the astonished Mr. Gunnill. "What's the matter?" inquired the latter. "You you've spoilt 'em," gasped Mr. Sims. "What of it?" said Mr. Gunnill, staring. "I was going to take 'em away," stammered Mr. Sims. "Well, they'll be easier to carry now," said Mr. Drill, simply. Mr.
He reached down as though to take up the carpet-bag which he had placed by the side of his chair, and then, apparently thinking better of it, leaned back in his seat and eyed Mr. Gunnill. "Do you mean to tell me," said the latter, "that he's been and upset the wrong man?" Mr. Drill shook his head. "That's the puzzle," he said, softly.
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