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The Colonel walked toward the door. He seemed already to have put the incident out of his mind. "Culver," he said, "if you can ever make radio contact with Able Company tell them to push off at 0600. If you can't, send a runner down before dawn to see if they've got the word." He gave the side of his thigh a rather self-conscious, gratuitous slap. "Well, good night."
There was a chorus of "Good night, sirs," and then the Major went out, too, trailed by O'Leary. Culver looked at his watch: it was nearly three o'clock.
Mannix looked up. "You going to try and get some sleep, Tom?"
"I've tried. It's too cold. Anyway, I've got to take over the radio watch from Junior here. What's your name, fellow?"
The boy at the radio looked up with a start, trembling with the cold. "McDonald, sir." He was very young, with pimples and a sweet earnest expression; he had obviously just come from boot camp, for he had practically no hair.
"Well, you can shove off and get some sleep, if you can find a nice warm pile of pine needles somewhere." The boy sleepily put down his earphones and went out, fastening the blackout flap behind him.

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'Among the persons who are attracted to me in my rising fame and fortune,' said I, looking over my letters, 'and who discover that they were always much attached to me, is the self-same Creakle. He is not a schoolmaster now, Traddles. He is retired. He is a Middlesex Magistrate.' ¡¡¡¡I thought Traddles might be surprised to hear it, but he was not so at all. ¡¡¡¡'How do you suppose he comes to be a Middlesex Magistrate?' said I. ¡¡¡¡'Oh dear me!' replied Traddles, 'it would be very difficult to answer that question. Perhaps he voted for somebody, or lent money to somebody, or bought something of somebody, or otherwise obliged somebody, or jobbed for somebody,

who knew somebody who got the lieutenant of the county to nominate him for the commission.' ¡¡¡¡'On the commission he is, at any rate,' said I. 'And he writes to me here, that he will be glad to show me, in operation, the only true system of prison discipline; the only unchallengeable way of making sincere and lasting converts and penitents - which, you know, is by solitary confinement. What do you say?' ¡¡¡¡'To the system?' inquired Traddles, looking grave.

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'Are they dead, ma'am?' I inquired, after drinking the toast in a wine-glass. ¡¡¡¡'My mama departed this life,' said Mrs. Micawber, 'before Mr. Micawber's difficulties commenced, or at least before they became pressing. My papa lived to bail Mr. Micawber several times, and then expired, regretted by a numerous circle.' ¡¡¡¡Mrs. Micawber shook her head, and dropped a pious tear upon the twin who happened to be in hand. ¡¡¡¡As I could hardly hope for a more favourable opportunity of putting a question in which I had a near interest, I said to Mrs. Micawber: ¡¡¡¡'May I ask, ma'am, what you and Mr. Micawber intend to do, now that Mr.
Micawber is out of his difficulties, and at liberty? Have you settled yet?' ¡¡¡¡'My family,' said Mrs. Micawber, who always said those two words with an air, though I never could discover who came under the denomination, 'my family are of opinion that Mr. Micawber should quit London, and exert his talents in the country. Mr. Micawber is a man of great talent, Master Copperfield.'

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HAD led this life about a month, when the man with the wooden leg began to stump about with a mop and a bucket of water, from which I inferred that preparations were making to receive Mr. Creakle and the boys. I was not mistaken; for the mop came into the schoolroom before long, and turned out Mr. Mell and me, who lived where we could, and got on how we could, for some days, during which we were always in the way of two or three young women,
who had rarely shown themselves before, and were so continually in the midst of dust that I sneezed almost as much as if Salem House had been a great snuff-box. ¡¡¡¡One day I was informed by Mr. Mell that Mr. Creakle would be home that evening. In the evening, after tea, I heard that he was come. Before bedtime, I was fetched by the man with the wooden leg to appear before him.

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Campbell shook his head.
　　"I should have said if there was one place inLondon that was absolutely above suspicion –”
　　"I know, I know," saidFather. "And what a useful thing it is to have thatreputation!"
　　Campbell shook his head and left. Father went downthe passage to the smoking-room. General Radley was just waking up. The Times had slippedfrom his knees and disintegrated slightly. Father picked up and reassembled the sheets andhanded it to him.
　　"Thank ye, sir. Very kind," said General Radley gruffly.
　　"General Radley?"
　　"Yes."
　　"You'll excuse me,"said Father, raising his voice, "but I wantto speak to you about Canon Pennyfather."
　　"Eh – what's that?" the General approached a hand to hisear.
　　"Canon Pennyfather," bellowedFather.
　　"My father? Dead years ago."

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No, no. Tomorrow, the 19th."
　　Canon Pennyfather passed out through the door whilehis friend, looking after him, was just saying:
　　"But my dear chap, today is the 19th,isn't it?"
　　Canon Pennyfather, however, had gone beyond earshot.He picked up a taxi in Pall Mall, and was driven to the air terminal in Kensington. Therewas quite a fair crowd this evening. Presenting himself at the desk it at last came to histurn. He managed to produce ticket and passport and other necessities for the journey. Thegirl behind the desk, about to stamp these credentials, paused abruptly.
　　"I beg your pardon, sir, this seems to be thewrong ticket."
　　"The wrong ticket? No, no, that is quite right.Flight one hundred and – well, I can't really read without my glasses – one hundredand something to Lucerne."
　　"It's the date, sir.This is dated Wednesday the 18th."
　　"No, no, surely. At least – I mean – today is Wednesday the 18th."
　　"I'm sorry, sir. Todayis the 19th."
　　"The 19th!" TheCanon was dismayed. He finished out a small diary, turning the pages eagerly. In the endhe had to be convinced. Today was the 19th. The plane he had meant to catch hadgone yesterday.

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some kind of a notice in the Loo – 'Presssharply and release,' 'Pull to the left,' 'Release quickly.' But in the old days, one justpulled up a handle any kind of way, and cataracts of water came at once – There's the dear Bishop of Medmenham," Lady Selina broke off to say, as a handsome, elderly cleric passed by. "Practically quite blind, I believe. But such a splendid militant priest."
　　A little clerical talk was indulged in, interspersedby Lady Selina's recognition of various friends andacquaintances, many of whom were not the people she thought they were. She and Miss Marpletalked a little of "old days," thoughMiss Marple's upbringing, of course, had been quite differentfrom Lady Selina's, and their reminiscences were mainlyconfined to the few years when Lady Selina, a recent widow of severely straitened

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> The narrow platform ended midway between two trees. The first creature inline grabbed hold of a long vine and swung across to the far trunk—which Luke couldsee, by twisting his head around, had a large cavelike opening carved into its titanicsurface. Vines were quickly tossed back and forth across the chasm, until soon akind of lattice was constructed—and Luke found himself being pulled across it, on hisback, still tied to the wooden poles. He looked down once, into nothingness. Itwas an unwelcome sensation. On the other side they rested on a shaky, narrow platform until everyone wasacross. Then the diminutive monkey-bears dismantled the webbing of vines andproceeded into the tree with their captives. It was totally black inside, but Luke hadthe impression it was more of a tunnel through the wood than an actual cavern. Theimpression of dense, solid walls was everywhere, like a burrow in a mountain.When they emerged, fifty yards beyond, they were in the village square.