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Updated: May 14, 2025
"Is there a good inn at Sissinghurst?" "Ay, theer's 'The Bull, comfortable, an' draws fine ale!" "Then I will go to Sissinghurst." "Ay, ay," nodded the old man, "if it be good ale an' a comfortable inn you want you need seek no further nor Siss'n'urst; ninety an' one years I've lived there, an' I know." "Ninety-one years!" I repeated. "As ever was!" returned the Ancient, with another nod.
"I'll work for 'e no more; my mind's made up, an' when my mind's made up theer bean't no movin' me like a rock I be!" "'Twould ha' been a fine thing for a Siss'n'urst man to ha' mended t' owd screen!" said the Ancient. "'Twould that!" nodded Simon, "a shame it is as it should go to others." Hereupon, having finished my ale, I rose. "Be you'm a-goin', young maister?" inquired the Ancient.
"Ye see," he cried, as soon as he had recovered his breath sufficiently, "ye see, I be wunnerful spry an' active could dance ye a hornpipe any day, if I was so minded." "On my word," said I, "I believe you could! But where are you going now?" "To Siss'n'urst!" "How far is that?" "'Bout a mile acrost t' fields, you can see the pint o' Joel Amos's oast-'ouse above the trees yonder."
"It'll be the Barbadies, or Austrayley!" grinned Amos; "transportation, it'll be Oh, my soul! think o' that now an' 'im a Siss'n'urst man!" "An' all along o' a couple o' rabbits!" said the Ancient, emphasizing the last word with a loud rap on his snuff-box. "Pa'tridges, Gaffer! they was pa'tridges!" returned Old Amos.
"And why," I continued, seeing that nobody appeared willing to speak, "why should you think it of me?" "W'y, Peter, ye bean't like ordinary folk; your eyes goes through an' through a man. An' then, Peter, I mind as you come a-walkin' into Siss'n'urst one night from Lord knows wheer, all covered wi' dust, an' wi' a pack on your back."
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