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Jacobs, W. W., 1863-1943

"The Constable's Move Captains All, Book 4."

So long."
He passed, beaming, down the stairs, and Mr. Grummit, drawing near the
window, heard him explaining in a broken voice to the neighbours outside.
Strong men patted him on the back and urged him gruffly to say what he
had to say and laugh afterwards. Mr. Grummit turned from the window, and
in a slow and stately fashion prepared to retire for the night. Even the
sudden and startling disappearance of Mrs. Grummit as she got into bed
failed to move him.
"The bed's broke, Bob," she said faintly.
"Beds won't last for ever," he said, shortly; "sleep on the floor."
Mrs. Grummit clambered out, and after some trouble secured the bedclothes
and made up a bed in a corner of the room. In a short time she was fast
asleep; but her husband, broad awake, spent the night in devising further
impracticable schemes for the discomfiture of the foe next door.
He saw Mr. Evans next morning as he passed on his way to work. The
constable was at the door smoking in his shirt-sleeves, and Mr. Grummit
felt instinctively that he was waiting there to see him pass.
"I heard you last night," said the constable, playfully. "My word! Good
gracious!"
"Wot's the matter with you?" demanded Mr.


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