The Persecution of Bob Pretty Page #4

"The Persecution of Bob Pretty" by W. W. Jacobs is a humorous tale set in the early 20th century, revolving around the misadventures of a hapless protagonist named Bob Pretty. In this lighthearted narrative, Jacobs deftly portrays the struggles and absurdities Bob faces as he becomes the target of various misunderstandings and misfortunes, leading to a series of comedic events. The story captures Jacobs' signature wit and charm, offering readers an entertaining glimpse into the mischief and trials that come with everyday life. With its engaging characters and clever storytelling, the book is a delightful exploration of human nature and the quirks of fate.

• Humour
• Short story

								

’ardworking man, and I’ve never been in trouble afore. Ask anybody ’ere
and they’ll tell you the same.”

Squire Rockett took no notice of ’im. “Is that the sack?” he asks,
turning to Mr. Cutts.

“That’s the one, sir,” ses Mr. Cutts. “I’d swear to it anywhere.”

“You’d swear a man’s life away,” ses Bob. “’Ow can you swear to it when
it was dark?”

Mr. Cutts didn’t answer ’im. He went down on ’is knees and cut the
string that tied up the mouth o’ the sack, and then ’e started back as
if ’e’d been shot, and ’is eyes a’most started out of ’is ’ead.

“Wot’s the matter?” ses the squire.

Mr. Cutts couldn’t speak; he could only stutter and point at the sack
with ’is finger, and Henery Walker, as was getting curious, lifted up
the other end of it and out rolled a score of as fine cabbages as you
could wish to see.

I never see people so astonished afore in all my born days, and as for
Bob Pretty, ’e stood staring at them cabbages as if ’e couldn’t believe
’is eyesight.

“And that’s wot I’ve been kept ’ere all night for,” he ses, at last,
shaking his ’ead. “That’s wot comes o’ trying to do a kindness to
keepers, and ’elping of ’em in their difficult work. P’r’aps that ain’t
the sack arter all, Mr. Cutts. I could ha’ sworn they was pheasants in
the one I found, but I may be mistook, never ’aving ’ad one in my ’ands
afore. Or p’r’aps somebody was trying to ’ave a game with you, Mr.
Cutts, and deceived me instead.”

The keepers on’y stared at ’im.

“You ought to be more careful,” ses Bob. “Very likely while you was
taking all that trouble over me, and Keeper Lewis was catching ’is
death o’ cold, the poachers was up at the plantation taking all they
wanted. And, besides, it ain’t right for Squire Rockett to ’ave to pay
Henery Walker five shillings for finding a lot of old cabbages. I
shouldn’t like it myself.”

He looked out of the corner of ’is eye at the squire, as was pretending
not to notice Henery Walker touching ’is cap to him, and then ’e turns
to ’is wife and he ses:

“Come along, old gal,” ’e ses. “I want my breakfast bad, and arter that
I shall ’ave to lose a honest day’s work in bed.”
								Rate this book:0.0 / 0 votes