StNicholas [serial] . ends dont care what sort ofclothes you wear. Forget yourpride. So I overhauled mywardrobe and found— looked down at the bluejacket and the flowing whitepantaloons and sighed. Theyare all I have left to remind meof my former glory. Faded but j . , °, ,, , ? U A IF Y0U dear to my heart, he sighed, asthe scenes of my childhood. Whereupon Harry looked very sympathetic. Well, it s a mighty nobby coat, said Chubcheerfully, between mouthfuls. Were you inthe army? Mr. Noon shook his head and chuckled. No, he answered. These garments wereworn by me when I traveled with Nor
StNicholas [serial] . ends dont care what sort ofclothes you wear. Forget yourpride. So I overhauled mywardrobe and found— looked down at the bluejacket and the flowing whitepantaloons and sighed. Theyare all I have left to remind meof my former glory. Faded but j . , °, ,, , ? U A IF Y0U dear to my heart, he sighed, asthe scenes of my childhood. Whereupon Harry looked very sympathetic. Well, it s a mighty nobby coat, said Chubcheerfully, between mouthfuls. Were you inthe army? Mr. Noon shook his head and chuckled. No, he answered. These garments wereworn by me when I traveled with NorthcottsGreat United Shows. I was Signor Billinuni,the celebrated European Clown. That explainsthe pantaloons. The coat I wore in the played the trombone in the band. He sighedagain. Those were indeed glorious days! A circus clown! cried Chub. Say, that s bully. I ve always wanted to meet a realclown! And the others murmured assent; allsave Harry, whose face fell. I thought you were a poet, she TART WITHOUT UNHITCHING, SAID CHUB, YOU LLTOW THE WHARF OFF ! Mr. Noon turned to her and smiled apologet-ically. I have been a great many things, he said,but I cant truthfully claim the poets own to a certain ability in the felicitous rhym-ing of words, but nothing more, nothing waved his fork on which a slice of fried po-tato was impaled and smiled modestly about thecircle. But I think your verses are perfectly lovely!cried Harry. You are too kind, he murmured with a reminds me that I owe an apology, never 1908.] HARRYS ISLAND 593 rightly expressed, for the liberty I took withyour commissariat. They all looked ratherblank; all except Dick. I had arrived on thisisland but an hour before and the problem ofsupper was occupying a great deal of be frank, I had in my pantry a little coffee, afried egg left over from dinner and—and a canof mushrooms, I may better say the can of mush-rooms. Mushrooms! repeated Roy curiously. Yes. Yo
Size: 1417px × 1763px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookauthordodgemar, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, bookyear1873
