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Kipling, Rudyard, 1865-1936

"The Phantom Rickshaw and Other Ghost Stories"

I dared not curse
him openly; I hardly dared jog his memory, for I was dealing with
the experiences of a thousand years ago, told through the mouth of
a boy of to-day; and a boy of to-day is affected by every change of
tone and gust of opinion, so that he lies even when he desires to
speak the truth.
I saw no more of him for nearly a week. When next I met him it
was in Gracechurch Street with a billbook chained to his waist.
Business took him over London Bridge and I accompanied him.
He was very full of the importance of that book and magnified it.
As we passed over the Thames we paused to look at a steamer'
unloading great slabs of white and brown marble. A barge drifted
under the steamer's stern and a lonely cow in that barge bellowed.
Charlie's face changed from the face of the bank-clerk to that of an
unknown and--though he would not have believed this--a much
shrewder man. He flung out his arm across the parapet of the
bridge, and laughing very loudly, said:
"When they heard _our_ bulls bellow the Skroelings ran away!"
I waited only for an instant, but the barge and the cow had
disappeared under the bows of the steamer before I answered.


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