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BEADSHAW THE BETRAYER. 47
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
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Transcript
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Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
Additionally, when viewing full transcripts, extracted text may not be in the same order as the original document.
.+. " Oh Doricles ! Your Praises Are Too...
senger for St . Valery , you d better take your seat ; for here come tlie letters . "
As lie spoke the railway omnibus rumbled round the corner . I had no resource but to obey or stay behind ; so I scrambled up as
best I could , and found myself condemned to a cushionless bench about six inches in width , and the society of a very little boy with
the hooping cough . In another moment the letter-bag was tossed in — the gamin courier seized the reins , uttered a wild whoop , and
sprang upon the shafts—the omnibus-driver favoured us with a cut of his whip—the idlers gave a delighted shout—the old
marketwomen scrambled out of the "way—and off we rattled at full speed over the stones .
Whoop ! Sacr-r-r-r-re ! The gamin flourishes his whip—the harness-bells jingle—the hotel Tete de Boeuf is left far behind—and the
grey old mountainous Cathedral is out of sight in no time . Whoop ! Sacr-r-r-r-re ! Through the market-place- —up one street ,
down another , and over a dangerous old wooden bridge that groans and creaks beneath our wheels ! Now we pass the boundary
of the fortifications , and enter upon a dreary , straggling suburb that seems to get longer the farther we go ; and now , as we draw near
the barrier where he must pause for the " visite" our charioteer subsides into a state of comparative tranquillity , and our speed
slackens . The presentation of a paper , the peering in of a mustachioed gendarme , and the perilous introduction of a bayonet close
beside my legs , constitutes the " visite ; " after which we go on at a much slower pace than before .
We are now in the open country , and jogging along a straight sandy roadbordered by poplars and pollards—the very twin brother
, to the uninviting canal of yesterday . The country round is wide and waste , and the little farmhouses are scattered thinly here and
there . Sometimes we , pass a waggon with the driver dozing in his place—sometimes a country girl in a cloak and hood , or a
weatherbeaten old cantonnier at work upon the road . The heat becomes almost intolerable , and before we have travelled a couple of miles
we are powdered over with a fine white dust that is especially tormenting . Then the little boy drops off into an uneasy sleep , and
has to be propped up with my portmanteau ; and the gamin , who is taking it very easily just nowand allowing the horse to go at his
own pace , dangles his legs lazil , y to and fro , lights his pipe , pulls out a well worn and very greasy-looking letter , and begins to read .
He continues in this state of quiescence for a mile or more , till the drowsy influences of the scene begin to tell upon myself . Then ,
just as I also am beginning to nod , he starts into a state of frantic animation , yells , cracks his whip , urges his horse to a shambling
gallop , plunges round the corner of the road and through the main street of a village that has hitherto lain unseen behind the hill ,
and so pulls up before the door of the single avherge with the air of
Beadshaw The Betrayer. 47
BEADSHAW THE BETRAYER . 47
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Citation
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English Woman’s Journal (1858-1864), March 1, 1858, page 47, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/ewj/issues/ewj_01031858/page/47/
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