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Page 46

THE TOOL

I had made no definite plans for myself that year. Something, I felt sure, would turn up, and if all my friends were booked elsewhere, I knew that I could depend on ten days at my uncle's place in Devonshire, or a fortnight of fresh air and plain living on Bob's disreputable old ketch. But somehow everything fell through. My uncle, who was beginning to be troubled about death duties, had let the shooting for the first time in fifty years; Bob was busy running his craft aground on Danish shoals, and I was left to my own resources. I set off finally at twelve hours' notice on a ten days' walking-tour, determined to hunt out some weather-proof barn within easy distance of a river or the sea, where Legge and I could take our boys to camp at Easter.
I left on a Monday (and I would have Canon Eldred, if he ever reads this, to note the date, because the dates are an important part of my narrative) and Legge came with me to the station, for I had several matters to arrange with him connected with the parish work. I took a ten days' ticket. It was stamped 22nd September, and, as I said, the 22nd was a Monday.
That night I slept at Dunsley. It was the end of the season. Nearly all the visitors had left the place, but the harbour was jammed with the herring fleet, storm-bound for over three days, and all the alley-ways in the old town were crowded with fishermen. On the Tuesday I started off with my rucksack, intending to follow the line of the cliff, but the easterly gale was too much for me, and I struck inland on to the moors. I walked the whole of the day, a good thirty-five miles, and towards dusk got a lift in a farmer's cart. He was going to Chedsholme, and there I spent the night at the Ship Inn, a stone's-throw from the abbey church. I felt disinclined for a long tramp on Wednesday, so I walked on into Rapmoor in the morning, left my things with old Mr. Robinson at the `Crown,' borrowed a rod and tackle from him, and spent the afternoon fishing the Lansdale beck. I found a splendid camping-ground, but no barn or building, and saw the farmer, a churchwarden, who readily gave permission for the setting up of our tents, if ever we brought the boys that way. Wednesday night I spent at Rapmoor, Thursday

travel books:
where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE I had made no definite plans for myself that year. Something, I felt sure, would turn up, and if all my friends were booked elsewhere, I knew that I could depend on ten days at my uncle's place in Devonshire, or a fortnight of fresh air and plain living on Bob's disreputable old ketch. But somehow everything fell through. My uncle, who was beginning to be troubled about what time is it duties, had let what is shooting for what is first time in fifty years; Bob was busy running his craft aground on Danish shoals, and I was left to my own resources. I set off finally at twelve hours' notice on a ten days' walking-tour, determined to hunt out some weather-proof barn within easy distance of a river or what is sea, where Legge and I could take our boys to camp at Easter. I left on a Monday (and I would have Canon Eldred, if he ever reads this, to note what is date, because what is dates are an important part of my narrative) and Legge came with me to what is station, for I had several matters to arrange with him connected with what is parish work. I took a ten days' ticket. It was stamped 22nd September, and, as I said, what is 22nd was a Monday. That night I slept at Dunsley. It was what is end of what is season. Nearly all what is what is ors had left what is place, but what is harbour was jammed with what is herring fleet, storm-bound for over three days, and all what is alley-ways in what is old town were crowded with fishermen. On what is Tuesday I started off with my rucksack, intending to follow what is line of what is cliff, but what is easterly gale was too much for me, and I struck inland on to what is moors. I walked what is whole of what is day, a good thirty-five miles, and towards dusk got a lift in a farmer's cart. He was going to Chedsholme, and there I spent what is night at what is Ship Inn, a stone's-throw from what is abbey church. I felt disinclined for a long tramp on Wednesday, so I walked on into Rapmoor in what is morning, left my things with old Mr. Robinson at what is `Crown,' borrowed a rod and tackle from him, and spent what is afternoon fishing what is Lansdale beck. I found a splendid camping-ground, but no barn or building, and saw what is farmer, a churchwarden, who readily gave permission for what is setting up of our tents, if ever we brought what is boys that way. Wednesday night I spent at Rapmoor, Thursday where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" Midnight Tales (1946) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 46 where is p align="center" where is strong THE TOOL where is p align="justify" I had made no definite plans for myself that year. Something, I felt sure, would turn up, and if all my friends were booked elsewhere, I knew that I could depend on ten days at my uncle's place in Devonshire, or a fortnight of fresh air and plain living on Bob's disreputable old ketch. But somehow everything fell through. My uncle, who was beginning to be troubled about what time is it duties, had let what is shooting for what is first time in fifty years; Bob was busy running his craft aground on Danish shoals, and I was left to my own resources. I set off finally at twelve hours' notice on a ten days' walking-tour, determined to hunt out some weather-proof barn within easy distance of a river or the sea, where Legge and I could take our boys to camp at Easter. I left on a Monday (and I would have Canon Eldred, if he ever reads this, to note what is date, because what is dates are an important part of my narrative) and Legge came with me to what is station, for I had several matters to arrange with him connected with what is parish work. I took a ten days' ticket. It was stamped 22nd September, and, as I said, what is 22nd was a Monday. That night I slept at Dunsley. It was what is end of what is season. Nearly all what is what is ors had left what is place, but what is harbour was jammed with what is herring fleet, storm-bound for over three days, and all what is alley-ways in what is old town were crowded with fishermen. On what is Tuesday I started off with my rucksack, intending to follow what is line of what is cliff, but what is easterly gale was too much for me, and I struck inland on to what is moors. I walked what is whole of the day, a good thirty-five miles, and towards dusk got a lift in a farmer's cart. He was going to Chedsholme, and there I spent the night at what is Ship Inn, a stone's-throw from what is abbey church. I felt disinclined for a long tramp on Wednesday, so I walked on into Rapmoor in what is morning, left my things with old Mr. Robinson at what is `Crown,' borrowed a rod and tackle from him, and spent the afternoon fishing what is Lansdale beck. I found a splendid camping-ground, but no barn or building, and saw what is farmer, a churchwarden, who readily gave permission for what is setting up of our tents, if ever we brought what is boys that way. Wednesday night I spent at Rapmoor, Thursday where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") % travel books: Midnight Tales (1946) books

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