"--_Evening Paper._
But for the headline we should never have recognised him.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _The Beginner._ "I HOPE TO HEAVEN I'VE GOT THE LABELS
ON THE RIGHT STICKS, OR I'M DONE!"]
* * * * *
BEAU BRIMACOMBE.
"Well, Uncle Tom," I said, leaning over the gate, "and what did you
think of London?"
On Monday morning Uncle Tom Brimacombe had driven off in his trap with
his wife to the nearest station, five miles away, and had gone up to
London for the first time in his life, "to see about a legacy."
"Lunnon! mai laife. It's a vaine plaace. Ai used 'think Awkeyampton
was a big town, but ai'm barmed if Lunnon dawn't beat un.
"As you knaw, Zur, us 'ad to get up and gaw off 'bout three in th'
morn'n, and us got upalong Lunnon 'bout tain. Well, the waife knew 'er
waay 'bout, laike; 'er 's bin to Plymouth 'fore now. Zo when us gets
out of the traain us gaws inzaide a sort er caage what taakes us down
a 'awl in the ground. Ai was fraightened out 'me laife. 'Yer,' ai sez,
'wur be us gwaine then?'
"'Dawn'ee axno questions, me dyur,' sez the waife, 'or ai'll vorget
ahl what the guard in the traain tawld us.
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