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Updated: May 21, 2025
'You can't think how strange I feel here, Cripplestraw, he continued, laying his hand upon the centre buttons of his waistcoat. 'How I do wish I was only the surgeon! He slowly mounted, and Uncle Benjy, in the meantime, sang to himself as he looked on, 'Twen-ty-three and half from N.W. Six-teen and three- quar-ters from N.E. 'What's that old mummy singing? said Festus savagely.
'Only a hymn for preservation from our enemies, dear nephew, meekly replied the farmer, who had heard the remark. 'Twen-ty-three and half from N.W. Festus allowed his horse to move on a few paces, and then turned again, as if struck by a happy invention. 'Cripplestraw, he began, with an artificial laugh, 'I am obliged to confess, after all I must see her!
Cripplestraw opened the hurdle which closed the arch under the portico gateway, and Festus passed under, Uncle Benjamin singing, Twen-ty-three and a half from N.W. with a sort of sublime ecstasy, feeling, as Festus had observed, that his money was safe, and that the French would not personally molest an old man in such a ragged, mildewed coat as that he wore, which he had taken the precaution to borrow from a scarecrow in one of his fields for the purpose.
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