Will of the Mill
By George Manville Fenn
19 Nov, 2019
“Here, I say, Josh, such a game!”
“What is it?”
The first speaker pointed down the gorge, tried to utter words, but began to choke with laughter, pointed again, and then stood stamping his feet, and wiping his eyes.
“Well,” cried
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“Here, I say, Josh, such a game!”
“What is it?”
The first speaker pointed down the gorge, tried to utter words, but began to choke with laughter, pointed again, and then stood stamping his feet, and wiping his eyes.
“Well,” cried the other, addressed as Josh, “what is it? Don’t stand pointing there like an old finger-post! I can’t see anything.”
“It’s—it’s—it’s—he—he—he!—Oh my!—Oh dear!”
“Gahn! What an old silly you are! What’s the game? Let’s have a bit of the fun.”
“The sun—sun—sun—”
“Don’t stand stuttering there in that stupid way.” Less