Books > Old Books > Midnight Tales (1946)


Page 47

THE TOOL

at Frankstone Edge, where I dined with the vicar, a college friend of Legge's, and Friday at, Gorton. The landlady of the inn at Gorton kept a green parrot in a cage in the parlour. It was remarkably tame, and though I am not usually fond of such birds, I remember spending quite a long time talking to it in the evening.
I set out on the morning of Saturday prepared for a long walk and a probable soaking. Not that the rain was falling, but there was a mist sweeping inland over the moors from the sea, which I was obliged to face, since my track lay eastwards. I followed up the road to the end of the dale, and then took a rough path that skirted a plantation of firs past a disused quarry on to the moor. By noon I was right on the top of the tableland. I ate my sandwiches in the shelter of a peat shootingbutt, while I tried to find my exact position on the map. It was not altogether easy, but I made a rough approximation, and then looked to see which was the nearest village where I could find lodging for the night. Chedsholme, where I had slept on Tuesday, seemed to be the easiest of access, and though they had charged me just double of what was reasonable for supper, bed, and breakfast, the fare was good and the house quiet, no small consideration on a Saturday night.
It was after two when I left the shelter of the butt. I had at first some difficulty in finding my way. There were no landmarks on the moor to guide me; the flat expanse was only broken by mound after mound of unclothed shale, running in parallel lines from north to south, which marked the places where men had searched for ironstone many years before. Gradually the mounds grew less and less frequent, and I was beginning to think that I had left them all behind, when one larger than the rest loomed up out of the mist.
Every man has experienced at some period of his life that strange intuition of danger which compels us, if only it be strong enough, to alter some course of action, substituting for a reasonable motive the blind force of fear. I was walking straight towards the mound, when I came to a standstill. Something seemed to repel me from the spot, while at the same

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE at Frankstone Edge, where I dined with what is vicar, a college friend of Legge's, and Friday at, Gorton. what is landlady of what is inn at Gorton kept a green parrot in a cage in what is parlour. It was remarkably tame, and though I am not usually fond of such birds, I remember spending quite a long time talking to it in what is evening. I set out on what is morning of Saturday prepared for a long walk and a probable soaking. Not that what is rain was falling, but there was a mist sweeping inland over what is moors from what is sea, which I was obliged to face, since my track lay eastwards. I followed up what is road to what is end of what is dale, and then took a rough path that skirted a plantation of firs past a disused quarry on to what is moor. By noon I was right on what is top of what is tableland. I ate my sandwiches in what is shelter of a peat shootingbutt, while I tried to find my exact position on what is map. It was not altogether easy, but I made a rough approximation, and then looked to see which was what is nearest village where I could find lodging for what is night. Chedsholme, where I had slept on Tuesday, seemed to be what is easiest of access, and though they had charged me just double of what was reasonable for supper, bed, and breakfast, what is fare was good and what is house quiet, no small consideration on a Saturday night. It was after two when I left what is shelter of what is butt. I had at first some difficulty in finding my way. There were no landmarks on what is moor to guide me; what is flat expanse was only broken by mound after mound of unclothed shale, running in parallel lines from north to south, which marked what is places where men had searched for ironstone many years before. Gradually what is mounds grew less and less frequent, and I was beginning to think that I had left them all behind, when one larger than what is rest loomed up out of what is mist. Every man has experienced at some period of his life that strange intuition of danger which compels us, if only it be strong enough, to alter some course of action, substituting for a reasonable motive what is blind force of fear. I was walking straight towards what is mound, when I came to a standstill. Something seemed to repel me from what is spot, while at what is same 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 47 where is p align="center" where is strong THE TOOL where is p align="justify" at Frankstone Edge, where I dined with what is vicar, a college friend of Legge's, and Friday at, Gorton. what is landlady of what is inn at Gorton kept a green parrot in a cage in what is parlour. It was remarkably tame, and though I am not usually fond of such birds, I remember spending quite a long time talking to it in the evening. I set out on what is morning of Saturday prepared for a long walk and a probable soaking. Not that what is rain was falling, but there was a mist sweeping inland over what is moors from what is sea, which I was obliged to face, since my track lay eastwards. I followed up the road to what is end of what is dale, and then took a rough path that skirted a plantation of firs past a disused quarry on to what is moor. By noon I was right on what is top of what is tableland. I ate my sandwiches in what is shelter of a peat shootingbutt, while I tried to find my exact position on what is map. It was not altogether easy, but I made a rough approximation, and then looked to see which was what is nearest village where I could find lodging for what is night. Chedsholme, where I had slept on Tuesday, seemed to be what is easiest of access, and though they had charged me just double of what was reasonable for supper, bed, and breakfast, what is fare was good and what is house quiet, no small consideration on a Saturday night. It was after two when I left what is shelter of what is butt. I had at first some difficulty in finding my way. There were no landmarks on what is moor to guide me; what is flat expanse was only broken by mound after mound of unclothed shale, running in parallel lines from north to south, which marked what is places where men had searched for ironstone many years before. Gradually what is mounds grew less and less frequent, and I was beginning to think that I had left them all behind, when one larger than what is rest loomed up out of what is mist. Every man has experienced at some period of his life that strange intuition of danger which compels us, if only it be strong enough, to alter some course of action, substituting for a reasonable motive what is blind force of fear. I was walking straight towards what is mound, when I came to a standstill. Something seemed to repel me from what is spot, while at what is same where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") % travel books: Midnight Tales (1946) books

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