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Farnol, Jeffery, 1878-1952

"My Lady Caprice"

"
Mr. Selwyn remained staring down at me for a moment, and I saw the
points of his moustache positively curling with indignation. Then,
without deigning a reply, he turned on his heel and strode away.
He had not gone more than thirty or forty paces, however, when I
heard him stop and swear savagely - I did not need to look to learn
the reason - I admit I chuckled. But my merriment was short-lived,
for a moment later came the feeble squeak of a horn followed by a
shout and the Imp's voice upraised in dire distress.
"Little-John! Little-John! to the rescue!" it called.
I hesitated, for I will freely confess that when I had made that
promise to the Imp it was with small expectation that I should be
called upon to fulfil it. Still, a promise is a promise: so I
sighed, and picking up the joint of my fishing rod, clambered up
the bank. Glancing in the direction of the cries, I beheld Robin
Hood struggling in the foe's indignant grasp.
Now, there were but two methods of procedure open to me as I could
see - the serious or the frankly grotesque. Naturally I chose the
latter, and quarter-staff on shoulder, I swaggered down the path
with an air that Little-John himself might well have envied.


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