| Title | The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists |
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| Page | 693 |
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| Chapter | -- |
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| Text |
your week's wages, eh? Five bob for two or three hours work!' `Yes, the money's all right, mate, but they're welcome to it for my part . I don't want to go messin' about with no corpses,' replied Philpot with a shudder. `Who is this last party what's dead?' asked Harlow after a pause. `It's a parson what used to belong to the "Shining Light" Chapel. He'd been abroad for 'is 'ollerdays - to Monte Carlo. It seems 'e was ill before 'e went away, but the change did 'im a lot of good; in fact, 'e was quite recovered, and 'e was coming back again. But while 'e was standin' on the platform at Monte Carlo Station waitin' for the train, a porter runned into 'im with a barrer load o' luggage, and 'e blowed up.' `Blowed up?' |
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