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Updated: May 12, 2025
I was going by, I'm sure, without thinking or expecting a nod from men of that glib kidney when in my working clothes 'You always will go poking into town in your working clothes. Beg you to change how I will, 'tis no use. 'Well, however, I was in my working clothes. Werrington saw me. "Ah, Mr.
Smith! a fine morning; excellent weather for building," says he, out as loud and friendly as if I'd met him in some deep hollow, where he could get nobody else to speak to at all. 'Twas odd: for Werrington is one of the very ringleaders of the fast class. At that moment a tap came to the door. The door was immediately opened by Mrs. Smith in person. 'You'll excuse us, I'm sure, Mrs.
The food the first he had taken for nigh four days enabled him to pursue his journey slowly, and he hobbled on through Peterborough, the blood still trickling from his wounded feet. At every stone-heap at the roadside he rested himself, until he came to the hamlet of Werrington, where a cart ran up against him, out of which sprang a woman who took him in her arms.
Having on my working clothes, I thought 'twas odd. Ay, and there was young Werrington. 'Who's he? 'Why, the man in Hill Street, who plays and sells flutes, trumpets, and fiddles, and grand pehanners. He was talking to Egloskerry, that very small bachelor-man with money in the funds.
By-and-by I passed Walton, and soon reached Werrington. I was making for the "Beehive" as fast as I could when a cart met me, with a man, a woman, and a boy in it. When nearing me the woman jumped out and caught fast hold of my hands, and wished me to get into the cart. But I refused; I thought her either drunk or mad.
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