After My Fashion

After My Fashion by John Cowper Powys Page B

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Authors: John Cowper Powys
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Priddle and the great watery eyes of Charley Budge.
    â€˜Hoping there’s no offence, mister, in us having taken the liberty of showing ’ee that there bit ’o news. It may be as it’s your poor dear Mother what’s runned into a railway train, and it may be as ’tisn’t. If ’tis, ’tis God’s will. If ’tisn’t I reckons ’tis somebody else’s mother; but seeing how it’s upset ’ee like I be afeerd it is as ’tis there writ’ down.’
    Saying these words the foreman of Toat Farm planted his feet firmly in the long grass, screwed up his eyes, scratched his head, and whistled a few notes of the particular call with which he was accustomed to summon his wife’s ducks at the hour of sunset.
    â€˜Charley,’ he remarked after a long pause, during which the young man read and re-read the bit of newspaper, ‘us must be getting on with the beasts, us must.’
    â€˜Aye, aye, Mr Priddle,’ agreed the other. ‘Beasts must be served funeral days same as wedding days, as old Farmer Patchem used to tell us every time ’is missus ’ad a still-born. “Life is as ’tis, Charley,” ’ee used to say, “and them as takes it quiet’ll last longest and their children’s children’ll call ’em blessed.”’
    Having uttered these words of wisdom the two sages moved away. ‘The poor lad be dazed-like,’ said the foreman. ‘Did ’ee mark, Charley, how ’ee squinnied with the eyes o’n, when ’ee got tellin of funerals? A reckon ‘ee might o’ bashed it out, ’ee did, too point, Charley, than ’ee was. Sort o’ bashed it out, ’ee did, tooplumb and positive. Maybe the old woman isn’t broken up complete. Some of them elderly females is wonderful hard to kill; same as cats I reckon.’
    Well! no use standing here , thought Canyot. I must off to Sets-hurst. If it is the poor darling, I shall stay the night there. It may be nothing more than a nervous shock, after all. These papers exaggerate so. And it may not be her at all. But if it isn’t, it’s certainly an odd coincidence .
    He felt a small hand softly and timidly pulling at the sleeve that hung empty. Robert had lost his arm in Flanders and possessed two medals for courage in the field. He looked down and patted the child’s head, ashamed of having forgotten her. The little dumb girl was making pitiful sounds with her poor mouth.
    â€˜Poor little water rat!’ he murmured. ‘Poor little Sally-Maria! This is a bad day for us, isn’t it? But never mind! Say your prayers for your friend’s Mummy. Let’s hope that when we meet again all will be well.’
    The child put her arms around him holding his sleeve tightly and hiding her face.
    â€˜There – there – my little one,’ he said, extricating himself from her clinging arms. ‘Don’t worry any more about it. Run home to Auntie and be a good little kind faithful water rat. We’ll see each other again. Goodbye and God bless you!’ And he broke from her and started off at a run in the direction of Littlegate. I’ll just tell them where I’m going , he said to himself, so if I’m away for the night they won’t be scared . Even to his own heart he used the pronoun ‘they’, but his thoughts circled round Nelly and the sad walk he had had with her the night before. I’ve go to face it , he said to himself as he followed the pack-horse track along the lower slopes of the Downs. If she has never really cared for me as she thought she did, I suppose I can’t blame her. But if she’s simply fickle, and just flattered by that cunning old Frenchy’s blarney – well then, to the devil with her! She’s no better than a flirtatious little cat !
    Â Â   
    The path Canyot followed through the late afternoon sunshine lay through the open

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