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Updated: June 12, 2025
"Mary's and Helen's aren't," said Jeremy with some faint idea of protecting his sisters. "They're bought in Polchester." "Mother says," said Charlotte, "that if you're not pretty it doesn't matter where you buy your clothes." They arrived on the beach and stared about them. It became at once a great question as to where Mrs.
Sampson, Canon Ronder, moved about the town, to my young eyes, like gods and goddesses, and it was not until after my return to Polchester at the end of my first Cambridge year that I saw clearly how small a town it was and how tiny the figures in it.
The Polchester children in general were told that "they would be stolen by the gipsies if they weren't careful," and, although some of them in extreme moments of rebellion and depression felt that the life of adventure thus offered to them, might, after all, be more agreeable than the dreary realism of their natural days, the warning may be said to have been effective.
Several weeks before Christmas there appeared upon the town walls and hoardings the pictured announcements of the approaching visit to Polchester of Denny's Great Christmas Pantomime "Dick Whittington." Boxing Night was to see the first performance at our Assembly Rooms, and during every afternoon and evening of the next three weeks this performance was to be repeated.
Here not only was there every kind of toy dolls, soldiers, horses, carts, games, tops, hoops, dogs, elephants but also sweets chocolates, jujubes, caramels, and the best sweet in the whole world, the Polchester Bull's- eye. They went in together. Mrs. Magnet, now with God, an old woman like a berry, always in a bonnet with green flowers, smiled and bobbed.
She was not dramatic in her new independence; she did not cry defiance to the golden mist or the larks or the hidden sun; she only walked on and on, stumping forward in her clumsy boots, her eyes hard and unseeing, her hands clasped behind her back. Her expectation of happiness in her opening life that had been so strong with her that other day when she had looked down upon Polchester was gone.
It had been decided by the Higher Powers that it would be a charming thing for some of the younger Polchester ladies to have in charge the working of two of the flags that were to decorate the Assembly Room walls on the night of the Ball.
Funny how you could hear them in every nook and corner of Polchester. "Likely turn to rain before night," Hogg said, as he turned back to the bar. Falk sat there watching. Some of the men he knew, some he did not, but to-day they were all shadows to him.
Of course you know nothing about London. How should you? Give me a week in London and you can have your old Polchester for ever. What ever happens in Polchester? Silly old croquet parties and a dance in the Assembly Rooms. And never any one new." "Well, there is some one new," said Betty Callender, "I saw her this morning." "Her?
We were near Ashford in Kent for twelve years, and the Glebeshire people are very different." "Well," said Joan, who was a little irritated because she felt that his voice was a little sadder than it ought to be, "I think you'll like Polchester. I'm sure you will. And you've come in a good year, too. There's sure to be a lot going on this year because of the Jubilee." Mr.
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