They walked on in silence, each of them wholly and frowningly absorbed in his task, William limping stiffly, Ginger clicking valiantly, and Douglas rolling his eyes.
A little short-sighted man who met them stopped still and stared in amazement.
“Dear me!” he said.
“I’ve gotter false leg,” William condescended to explain, “and he,” indicating Douglas, “’s gotter glass eye, an’ he’s got false teeth.”
“Dear me!” gasped the little old man. “How very extraordinary!”
They left him staring after them....
Douglas, wildly cross-eyed, set off at the turning to his home. He was labouring under the delusion that he had at last acquired the knack of keeping one eye still while he rolled the other, though William and Ginger informed him repeatedly that he was mistaken.
“They’re both movin’.”
“They’re not, I tell you. One’s keepin’ still. I can feel it keepin’ still.”
“Well, we can see it, can’t we? We oughter know.”