| Title | The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists |
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| Page | 1444 |
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| Chapter | -- |
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unaccountable depression that possessed Philpot deprived him of all his usual jocularity and filled him with melancholy thoughts. He had travelled up and down this hill a great many times before under similar circumstances and he said to himself that if he had half a quid now for every time he had pushed a cart up this road, he wouldn't need to do anyone out of a job all the rest of his life. The shop where he had been apprenticed used to be just down at the bottom; the place had been pulled down years ago, and the ground was now occupied by more pretentious buildings. Not quite so far down the road - on the other side - he could see the church where he used to attend Sunday School when he was a boy, and where he was married just thirty years ago. Presently - when they reached the top of the hill - he would be able to look across the valley and see the spire of the other church, the one in the graveyard, where all those who were dear to him had been one by one laid to rest. He felt that he would not be sorry when the time |
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