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Blackwood, Algernon, 1869-1951

"The Extra Day"


"He's ours!" exclaimed Judy. "It's our old tramp!"
"Be very polite to him," Uncle Felix had time to whisper hurriedly,
seeing that all three stood behind him. "He's a great Adventurer and a
Wanderer too."


CHAPTER IX
A PRIEST OF WONDER

He was a grey and nameless creature of shadowy outline and vague
appearance. The eye focused him with difficulty. He had an air of a
broken tombstone about him, with moss and lichen in wayward patches,
for his face was split and cracked, and his beard seemed a
continuation of his hair; but he had soft blue eyes that had got lost
in the general tangle and seemed to stray about the place and peep out
unexpectedly like flowers hiding in a thick-set hedge. The face might
be anywhere; he might move suddenly in any direction; he was prepared,
as it were, to move forward, sideways, or backwards according as the
wind decided or the road appeared--a sort of universal scarecrow of a
being altogether.
Yet, for all his forlorn and scattered attitude, there hung about his
rags an air of something noble and protective, something strangely
inviting that welcomed without criticism all the day might bring.


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