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Quiller-Couch, Arthur Thomas, Sir, 1863-1944

"The Mayor of Troy"


In the meanwhile our town has some lions which may amuse your
convalescence--a figurative term, meaning objects of interest."
Once or twice, in the course of his first stroll, the Major's eyes
came near to brimming with tears. The town itself had suffered
surprisingly little change. The Collector--he seemed scarcely a day
older--stood as of old at the head of the Custom House stairs, and
surveyed the world benignly with his thumbs in the arm-holes of his
waistcoat. Before the Major's own doorway the myrtles were in bloom,
and a few China roses on the well-trimmed standards. By the Broad
Ship as of old his nostrils caught the odours of tar and hemp with a
whiff of smoke from a schooner's galley (the _Ranting Blade_, with
her figure-head repainted, but otherwise much the same as ever).
Miss Jex, the postmistress, still peered over her blind. She studied
the Major's wooden leg with interest. He, on his part, seemed to
detect that the down on her upper lip had sensibly lightened in
colour. _En revanche_, from the corner of his eye, as he passed the
open door, he saw that the portrait over the counter (supposed of
yore to represent the Prince Regent) wore a frame of black ribbon.
The black, alas! was rusty.
The manners of the children had not improved. Half a dozen urchins,
running into him here by the corner of the post-office on their way
from school, fell back in a ring and began to call "Boney!"
derisively.


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