“Then I’ll forgive him, and young Mr Sam Brandon too. My word, sir, I’d ha’ give something to ha’ been there to see.”
“But he must have hurt himself, David.”
“What there, sir? Tchah! that sand’s as soft as silk. Wouldn’t like to come and help fetch the chair, sir?”
“Yes, I should, David; I should like the ride.”
“Then come on, sir, and we’ll go round the other way from the Vicarage gates. Right from top to bottom, eh, sir? Well, I would have give something to ha’ been there to see.”
Chapter Twenty Three.
“Humph!” ejaculated Uncle Richard, as he finished his inspection of the bath-chair just taken out of the Vicar’s cart. “See that the carrier calls for it, David, to take it back to Guildford; and you, Tom, write for me to the man it was hired from, pointing out that we have had an accident, and tell him to send in his bill.”
“And it’ll be a big ’un, Master Tom,” said David, chuckling and rubbing his hands as soon as his master was out of hearing. “My word, it’s got it, and no mistake. One wheel right off, the front all twissen, and the axle-tree bent. It’ll be like making a new ’un. Tck!”