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Rusper's establishment, and stand in his doorway and enquire: "Well, O' Man, how's the Mind of the Age working?" and get quite an hour of it, and sometimes Mr. Then Mr. Rusper married, and he married very inconsiderately a woman who was totally uninteresting to Mr. Polly. A coolness grew between them from the first intimation of her advent. Mr.
"Look here!" it said, "this, within limits, is your affair; what are you going to do?" The three hobbledehoys, had it been a weekday and they in working clothes, might have felt free to act, but the stiffness of black was upon them and they simply moved to the corner by Rusper's to take a better view of Mr. Polly beating at the door.
Rusper's mouth, and strove earnestly for some time to prolong that aperture in the direction of Mr. Rusper's ear before it occurred to Mr. Rusper concentrated his mind almost entirely on an effort to rub Mr. Polly's face on the pavement. Then it seemed to each of them that the other had become endowed with many hands and several voices and great accessions of strength.
Rusper laid one hand on the bicycle handle, and the other gripped Mr. Polly's collar urgently. Whereupon Mr. Polly said: "Leggo!" and again, "D'you hear! Leggo!" and then drove his elbow with considerable force into the region of Mr. Rusper's midriff. Whereupon Mr.
"Hi!" he repeated, "Fire!" That was the beginning of the great Fishbourne fire, which burnt its way sideways into Mr. Rusper's piles of crates and straw, and backwards to the petrol and stabling of the Royal Fishbourne Hotel, and spread from that basis until it seemed half Fishbourne would be ablaze.
Rusper's shop, and the untoward chance of a motor car trying to pass a waggon on the wrong side gave Mr. Polly no choice but to get on to the pavement and dismount.
Boomer and the very young policeman, and disorder by some partially intoxicated volunteers with views of their own about the manipulation of the apparatus. Two or three lengths of Mr. Rusper's garden hose appeared to have twined themselves round the ladder. Mr.
Presently a hundred ready hands were unrolling and spreading and tangling up and twisting and hopelessly involving Mr. Rusper's stock of hose, sustained by an unquenchable assurance that presently it would in some manner contain and convey water, and Mr. Rusper. Next door to the fire station was Mantell and Throbson's, the little Fishbourne branch of that celebrated firm, and Mr.
"It's cleared me out of a lot of old stock," said Mr. Wintershed; "that's one good thing." The remark was felt to be in rather questionable taste, and still more so was his next comment. "Rusper's a bit sick it didn't reach 'im." Everyone looked uncomfortable, and no one was willing to point the reason why Rusper should be a bit sick. "Rusper's been playing a game of his own," said Hinks.
It seemed to that undesirable mind of his that Rusper's head was the most egg-shaped head he had ever seen; the similarity weighed upon him; and when he found an argument growing warm with Rusper he would say: "Boil it some more, O' Man; boil it harder!" or "Six minutes at least," allusions Rusper could never make head or tail of, and got at last to disregard as a part of Mr.
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