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Three Men in a Boat / Three Men on the Bummel

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— 360 —<br />

“we had better make <strong>the</strong> most of this.” Which was good advice,<br />

<strong>on</strong> <strong>the</strong> face of it.<br />

“It is a pity,” said Harris, “that <strong>the</strong> pears are still so hard.”<br />

He grieved about this for a while, but later <strong>on</strong> came across<br />

some remarkably f<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>e yellow plums and <strong>the</strong>se c<strong>on</strong>soled him<br />

somewhat.<br />

“I suppose we are still a bit too far north for p<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>eapples,”<br />

said George. “I feel I could just enjoy a fresh p<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>eapple. This<br />

comm<strong>on</strong>place fruit palls up<strong>on</strong> <strong>on</strong>e after a while.”<br />

“Too much bush fruit and not enough tree, is <strong>the</strong> fault I<br />

f<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>d,” said Harris. “Myself, I should have liked a few more<br />

greengages.”<br />

“Here is a man com<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g up <strong>the</strong> hill,” I observed, “who looks<br />

like a native. Maybe, he will know where we can f<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>d some<br />

more greengages.”<br />

“He walks well for an old chap,” remarked Harris.<br />

He certa<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>ly was climb<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g <strong>the</strong> hill at a remarkable pace. Also,<br />

so far as we were able to judge at that distance, he appeared to<br />

be <str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g> a remarkably cheerful mood, s<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g and shout<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g at <strong>the</strong><br />

top of his voice, gesticulat<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g, and wav<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g his arms.<br />

“What a merry old soul it is,” said Harris; “it does <strong>on</strong>e good<br />

to watch him. But why does he carry his stick over his shoulder?<br />

Why doesn’t he use it to help him up <strong>the</strong> hill?”<br />

“Do you know, I d<strong>on</strong>’t th<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>k it is a stick,” said George.<br />

“What can it be, <strong>the</strong>n?” asked Harris.<br />

“Well, it looks to me,” said George, “more like a gun.”<br />

“You d<strong>on</strong>’t th<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>k we can have made a mistake?” suggested<br />

Harris. “You d<strong>on</strong>’t th<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>k this can be anyth<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g <str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g> <strong>the</strong> nature of<br />

a private orchard?”<br />

I said: “Do you remember <strong>the</strong> sad th<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g that happened <str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g><br />

<strong>the</strong> South of France some two years ago? A soldier picked<br />

some cherries as he passed a house, and <strong>the</strong> French peasant to<br />

whom <strong>the</strong> cherries bel<strong>on</strong>ged came out, and without a word of<br />

warn<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g shot him dead.”<br />

“But surely you are not allowed to shoot a man dead for<br />

pick<str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g>g fruit, even <str<strong>on</strong>g>in</str<strong>on</strong>g> France?” said George.

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