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The Attaché; or, Sam Slick in England — Complete by Thomas Chandler Haliburton
page 24 of 362 (06%)
looks up, it was another shower by Gosh. I pulls foot
for dear life: it was tall walking you may depend, but
the shower wins, (comprehens_ive_ as my legs be), and
down it comes, as hard as all possest. 'Take it easy,
Sam,' sais I, 'your flint is fixed; you are wet
thro'--runnin' won't dry you,' and I settled down to a
careless walk, quite desperate.

"'Nothin' in natur', unless it is an Ingin, is so
treacherous as the climate here. It jist clears up on
purpose I do believe, to tempt you out without your
umbreller, and jist as sure as you trust it and leave it
to home, it clouds right up, and sarves you out for it--it
does indeed. What a sight of new clothes I've spilte
here, for the rain has a sort of dye in it. It stains
so, it alters the colour of the cloth, for the smoke is
filled with gas and all sorts of chemicals. Well, back
I goes to my room agin' to the rooks, chimbly swallers,
and all, leavin' a great endurin' streak of wet arter me
all the way, like a cracked pitcher that leaks; onriggs,
and puts on dry clothes from head to foot.

"By this time breakfast is ready; but the English don't
do nothin' like other folks; I don't know whether it's
affectation, or bein' wrong in the head--a little of both
I guess. Now where do you suppose the solid part of
breakfast is, Squire? Why, it's on the side-board--I hope
I may be shot if it ain't--well, the tea and coffee are
on the table, to make it as onconvenient as possible.

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