Books > Old Books > Midnight Tales (1946)


Page 56

THE TOOL

And strange as it may seem, I accepted the explanation gladly, for it was the cold reality that I dreaded, linked as it had been with the awful idea that I had done the deed myself in a fit of unconscious frenzy; and in my thankfulness I knelt down on the heather and praised the God of the blue sky and sunlight for having saved me from the terrors of the night.
With a mind at peace with itself I walked back across the moor. I determined to end my holiday on the morrow, to consult some nerve specialist and, if need be, to go abroad for a month or two. I dined that night at the Ship Inn with a talkative old gentleman, who succeeded in keeping me from thinking of my own affairs, and, feeling sure of sleep, went early to bed.
My story does not end there. I wish that it did; but, Canon Eldred said in yesterday's sermon, it is often our duty to accept things as they are, not to waste the limited amount of energy that is given for the day's work in vain regret or morbid anticipation.
For, as I was sitting at breakfast on the morrow, I heard a man in the bar ask Mrs. Shaftoe for the morning's paper. She told him that the gentleman in the parlour was reading it, but that Tuesday's was in the kitchen.
`Tuesday's?' I said to myself. `Monday's, she means. To-day is Tuesday'; and I looked at the calendar on the mantelpiece. Thee calendar said Wednesday. I looked at the newspaper and saw on every page, `Wednesday, lst October.' I got up half-dazed and walked into the bar. I suppose Mrs. Shaftoe must have seen that there was something wrong, for, before I spoke, she offered me a glass of brandy.
`I'm losing my memory,' I said. `I think I can't be quite well. I can't remember anything I did yesterday.'
`Why, bless you, sir!' she said, `you were out on the moors all day. I made you some sandwiches, and in the evening you were talking to the old gentleman who left this morning on Free Trade and Protection.'
`Then what did I do on Monday? I thought that was Monday.'
`Oh! Monday!' said Mrs. Shaftoe. `You were out on the

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE And strange as it may seem, I accepted what is explanation gladly, for it was what is cold reality that I dreaded, where are they now ed as it had been with what is awful idea that I had done what is deed myself in a fit of unconscious frenzy; and in my thankfulness I knelt down on what is heather and praised what is God of what is blue sky and sunlight for having saved me from what is terrors of what is night. With a mind at peace with itself I walked back across what is moor. I determined to end my holiday on what is morrow, to consult some nerve specialist and, if need be, to go abroad for a month or two. I dined that night at what is Ship Inn with a talkative old gentleman, who succeeded in keeping me from thinking of my own affairs, and, feeling sure of sleep, went early to bed. My story does not end there. I wish that it did; but, Canon Eldred said in yesterday's sermon, it is often our duty to accept things as they are, not to waste what is limited amount of energy that is given for what is day's work in vain regret or morbid anticipation. For, as I was sitting at breakfast on what is morrow, I heard a man in what is bar ask Mrs. Shaftoe for what is morning's paper. She told him that what is gentleman in what is parlour was reading it, but that Tuesday's was in what is kitchen. `Tuesday's?' I said to myself. `Monday's, she means. To-day is Tuesday'; and I looked at what is calendar on what is mantelpiece. Thee calendar said Wednesday. I looked at what is newspaper and saw on every page, `Wednesday, lst October.' I got up half-dazed and walked into what is bar. I suppose Mrs. Shaftoe must have seen that there was something wrong, for, before I spoke, she offered me a glass of brandy. `I'm losing my memory,' I said. `I think I can't be quite well. I can't remember anything I did yesterday.' `Why, bless you, sir!' she said, `you were out on what is moors all day. I made you some sandwiches, and in what is evening you were talking to what is old gentleman who left this morning on Free Trade and Protection.' " `Then what did I do on Monday? I thought that was Monday.' `Oh! Monday!' said Mrs. Shaftoe. `You were out on what is 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 56 where is p align="center" where is strong THE TOOL where is p align="justify" And strange as it may seem, I accepted what is explanation gladly, for it was what is cold reality that I dreaded, where are they now ed as it had been with what is awful idea that I had done what is deed myself in a fit of unconscious frenzy; and in my thankfulness I knelt down on what is heather and praised what is God of what is blue sky and sunlight for having saved me from what is terrors of what is night. With a mind at peace with itself I walked back across what is moor. I determined to end my holiday on what is morrow, to consult some nerve specialist and, if need be, to go abroad for a month or two. I dined that night at what is Ship Inn with a talkative old gentleman, who succeeded in keeping me from thinking of my own affairs, and, feeling sure of sleep, went early to bed. My story does not end there. I wish that it did; but, Canon Eldred said in yesterday's sermon, it is often our duty to accept things as they are, not to waste what is limited amount of energy that is given for what is day's work in vain regret or morbid anticipation. For, as I was sitting at breakfast on what is morrow, I heard a man in what is bar ask Mrs. Shaftoe for what is morning's paper. She told him that what is gentleman in what is parlour was reading it, but that Tuesday's was in what is kitchen. `Tuesday's?' I said to myself. `Monday's, she means. To-day is Tuesday'; and I looked at what is calendar on what is mantelpiece. Thee calendar said Wednesday. I looked at what is newspaper and saw on every page, `Wednesday, lst October.' I got up half-dazed and walked into what is bar. I suppose Mrs. Shaftoe must have seen that there was something wrong, for, before I spoke, she offered me a glass of brandy. `I'm losing my memory,' I said. `I think I can't be quite well. I can't remember anything I did yesterday.' `Why, bless you, sir!' she said, `you were out on what is moors all day. I made you some sandwiches, and in what is evening you were talking to what is old gentleman who left this morning on Free Trade and Protection.' `Then what did I do on Monday? I thought that was Monday.' `Oh! Monday!' said Mrs. Shaftoe. `You were out on what is where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") % travel books: Midnight Tales (1946) books

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