human
You will be wondering at the tantrums of the man Grimes, sir,--of his ordering me and my comrade Peterday out of his cottage. Sir--I'll tell you--in two words. It's all owing to the sale--up at the Farm, sir. You see, Grimes is a great hand at buying things uncommonly cheap, and selling 'em--uncommonly dear. To-day it seems--he was disappointed--
gpt
Ah?
human
At exactly--twenty-three minutes to six, sir, said the Sergeant, consulting his large silver watch,
gpt
I were sitting in my usual corner--beside the chimley, sir,--when in comes Grimes--like a thunder-cloud.--Calls for a pint of ale--in a tankard. Tom draws pint--which Tom is the landlord, sir. 'Buy anything at the sale, Mr. Grimes?' says Tom,--'Sale!' says Grimes, 'sale indeed!' and falls a cursing--folk up at the Farm--shocking--outrageous. Ends by threatening to foreclose mortgage--within the month. Upon which--I raise a protest--upon which he grows abusive,--upon which I was forced to pour his ale over him,--after which I ran him out into the road--and there it is, you see.
human
And--he threatened to foreclose the mortgage on Dapplemere Farm, did he, Sergeant!
gpt
Within the month, sir!--upon which I warned him--inn parlour no place--lady's private money troubles--gaping crowd--dammit!
human
And so he is turning you out of his cottage?
gpt
Within the week, sir,--but then--beer down the neck--is rather unpleasant! and here the Sergeant uttered a short laugh, and was immediately grave again.
human
It isn't, he went on,
gpt
Very remarkable!
human
Then again,--there's my comrade,--Peter Day (The Sergeant pronounced it as though it were all one word). Sir, my comrade Peterday is a very remarkable man,--most cobblers are. When he's not cobbling, he's reading,--when not reading, he's cobbling, or mending clocks, and watches, and, betwixt this and that, my comrade has picked up a power of information,--though he lost his leg a doing of it--in a gale of wind--off the Cape of Good Hope, for my comrade was a sailor, sir. Consequently he is a handy man, most sailors are and makes his own wooden legs, sir, he is also a musician--the tin whistle, sir,--and here we are!
gpt
Tom Bowling