The Project Gutenberg EBook of Dialstone Lane, Part 3., by W.W. Jacobs

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Title: Dialstone Lane, Part 3.

Author: W.W. Jacobs

Release Date: April 9, 2004 [EBook #11973]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ASCII

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DIALSTONE LANE, PART 3. ***

Produced by David Widger

DIALSTONE LANE

By W.W. Jacobs

Part III.

CHAPTER IX

The church bells were ringing for morning service as Mr. Vickers, who had
been for a stroll with Mr. William Russell and a couple of ferrets,
returned home to breakfast. Contrary to custom, the small front room and
the kitchen were both empty, and breakfast, with the exception of a cold
herring and the bitter remains of a pot of tea, had been cleared away.

[Illustration: "Mr. Vickers had been for a stroll with Mr. William
Russell."]

"I've known men afore now," murmured Mr. Vickers, eyeing the herring
disdainfully, "as would take it by the tail and smack'em acrost the face
with it."

He cut himself a slice of bread, and, pouring out a cup of cold tea,
began his meal, ever and anon stopping to listen, with a puzzled face, to
a continuous squeaking overhead. It sounded like several pairs of new
boots all squeaking at once, but Mr. Vickers, who was a reasonable man
and past the age of self-deception, sought for a more probable cause.

A particularly aggressive squeak detached itself from the others and
sounded on the stairs. The resemblance to the noise made by new boots
was stronger than ever. It was new boots. The door opened, and Mr.
Vickers, with a slice of bread arrested half-way to his mouth, sat gazing
in astonishment at Charles Vickers, clad for the first time in his life
in new raiment from top to toe. Ere he could voice inquiries, an
avalanche of squeaks descended the stairs, and the rest of the children,
all smartly clad, with Selina bringing up the rear, burst into the room.

"What is it?" demanded Mr. Vickers, in a voice husky with astonishment;
"a bean-feast?"

Miss Vickers, who was doing up a glove which possessed more buttons than
his own waistcoat, looked up and eyed him calmly. "New clothes--and not
before they wanted'em," she replied, tartly.