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Milne, A. A. (Alan Alexander), 1882-1956

"Second Plays"


ERN. Oo!
GERVASE (coming out of his thoughts with a laugh). Well, of course, I
can't expect you to believe me. But don't go about thinking that
there's nothing in the world but bacon fat and bull's-eyes. Well,
then, I suppose I went to sleep, for I woke up suddenly and it was
morning, the most wonderful sparkling magical morning--but, of course,
_you_ were just settling down to business then.
ERN. Oo! (He makes more reminiscent noises.)
GERVASE. Yes, that's just what I said. I said to myself, breakfast.
ERN. 'Ad my breakfast.
GERVASE. Yes, but I 'adn't. I said to myself, "Surely my old friend,
Ernest, whom I used to shoot bison with in the Himalayas, has got an
estate somewhere in these parts. I will go and share his simple meal
with him." So I got out of the car, and I did what you didn't do,
young man, I had a bathe in the river, and then a dry on a
pocket-handkerchief--one of my sister's, unfortunately--and then I
came out to look for breakfast. And suddenly, whom should I meet but
my old friend, Ernest, the same hearty fellow, the same inveterate
talker as when we shot dragon-flies together in the swamps of Malay.
(Shaking his hand) Ernest, old boy, pleased to meet you. What about
it?
ERN.


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