He sits behind a bit of glass all day, trying to look as if he was
doing something. What's the good of a man behind a bit of glass? I have
to work for my living. Why can't he work. What use is he there, and
what's the good of their banks? They take your money, and then, when you
draw a cheque, they send it back smeared all over with `No effects,'
`Refer to drawer.' What's the good of that? That's the sort of trick
they served me twice last week. I'm not going to stand it much longer.
I shall withdraw my account. If he was here, we could go and see that
tomb. I don't believe he's at the bank at all. He's larking about
somewhere, that's what he's doing, leaving us to do all the work. I'm
going to get out, and have a drink."
I pointed out to him that we were miles away from a pub.; and then he
went on about the river, and what was the good of the river, and was
everyone who came on the river to die of thirst?
It is always best to let Harris have his head when he gets like this.
Then he pumps himself out, and is quiet afterwards.
I reminded him that there was concentrated lemonade in the hamper, and a
gallon-jar of water in the nose of the boat, and that the two only wanted
mixing to make a cool and refreshing beverage.
Then he flew off about lemonade, and "such-like Sunday-school slops," as
he termed them, ginger-beer, raspberry syrup, &c.
Pages:
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107