Passing of the Third Floor Back , livre ebook

The Floating Press - Jerome Jerome K.

Découvre YouScribe en t'inscrivant gratuitement

Je m'inscris

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

18 pages

English

Vous pourrez modifier la taille du texte de cet ouvrage

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

A propos
Informations
Extrait

Description

In this classic tale from Jerome K. Jerome, the lives of a ragtag group of residents living in squalor in a ramshackle boardinghouse are transformed forever with the arrival of a mysterious stranger. By providing an outsider's perspective, he helps them realize the errors of their ways.

Sujets

Short story

Informations

Publié par	The Floating Press
Date de parution	01 mars 2017
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781776677733
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0064€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

PASSING OF THE THIRD FLOOR BACK
* * *
JEROME K. JEROME

*
Passing of the Third Floor Back First published in 1904 Epub ISBN 978-1-77667-773-3 Also available: PDF ISBN 978-1-77667-774-0 © 2015 The Floating Press and its licensors. All rights reserved. While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Passing of the Third Floor Back
*
The neighbourhood of Bloomsbury Square towards four o'clock of aNovember afternoon is not so crowded as to secure to the stranger, ofappearance anything out of the common, immunity from observation. Tibb'sboy, screaming at the top of his voice that she was his honey, stoppedsuddenly, stepped backwards on to the toes of a voluble young ladywheeling a perambulator, and remained deaf, apparently, to the somewhatpersonal remarks of the voluble young lady. Not until he had reachedthe next corner—and then more as a soliloquy than as information to thestreet—did Tibb's boy recover sufficient interest in his own affairs toremark that he was her bee. The voluble young lady herself, followingsome half-a-dozen yards behind, forgot her wrongs in contemplationof the stranger's back. There was this that was peculiar about thestranger's back: that instead of being flat it presented a decidedcurve. "It ain't a 'ump, and it don't look like kervitcher of thespine," observed the voluble young lady to herself. "Blimy if I don'tbelieve 'e's taking 'ome 'is washing up his back."
The constable at the corner, trying to seem busy doing nothing, noticedthe stranger's approach with gathering interest. "That's an odd sort ofa walk of yours, young man," thought the constable. "You take care youdon't fall down and tumble over yourself."
"Thought he was a young man," murmured the constable, the strangerhaving passed him. "He had a young face right enough."
The daylight was fading. The stranger, finding it impossible to read thename of the street upon the corner house, turned back.
"Why, 'tis a young man," the constable told himself; "a mere boy."
"I beg your pardon," said the stranger; "but would you mind telling memy way to Bloomsbury Square."
"This is Bloomsbury Square," explained the constable; "leastways roundthe corner is. What number might you be wanting?"
The stranger took from the ticket pocket of his tightly buttonedovercoat a piece of paper, unfolded it and read it out: "Mrs.Pennycherry. Number Forty-eight."
"Round to the left," instructed him the constable; "fourth house. Beenrecommended there?"
"By—by a friend," replied the stranger. "Thank you very much."
"Ah," muttered the constable to himself; "guess you won't be calling himthat by the end of the week, young—"
"Funny," added the constable, gazing after the retreating figure of thestranger. "Seen plenty of the other sex as looked young behind and oldin front. This cove looks young in front and old behind. Guess he'lllook old all round if he stops long at mother Pennycherry's: stingy oldcat."
Constables whose beat included Bloomsbury Square had their reasons fornot liking Mrs. Pennycherry. Indeed it might have been difficult todiscover any human being with reasons for liking that sharp-featuredlady. Maybe the keeping of second-rate boarding houses in theneighbourhood of Bloomsbury does not tend to develop the virtues ofgenerosity and amiability.
Meanwhile the stranger, proceeding upon his way, had rung the bell ofNumber Forty-eight. Mrs. Pennycherry, peeping from the area and catchinga glimpse, above the railings, of a handsome if somewhat effeminatemasculine face, hastened to readjust her widow's cap before thelooking-glass while directing Mary Jane to show the stranger, should heprove a problematical boarder, into the dining-room, and to light thegas.
"And don't stop gossiping, and don't you take it upon yourself to answerquestions.