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McCutcheon, George Barr, 1866-1928

"Mr. Bingle"

He was quite cheerful
about it, too. They used to catch him chuckling to himself as he sat
shivering over the fireplace, and he seemed to take especial delight
in demanding three eggs for breakfast when every one knew that eggs
were seventy-two cents a dozen. The only compensation they had out of
the experience--aside from the realisation that they were living up to
a principle--was the untiring effort he made to entertain them with
stories of his adventures as a tramp! He gracelessly confessed that he
had travelled under many names, and that he was known by various
soubriquets that would not sound well on Fifth Avenue but still
possessed the splendid virtue of being decorative. There was not the
slightest doubt that he had roamed the land over, and there was not
even the faintest suspicion that he had profited by travel.
And this brings us up to Christmas Eve. With February not far away,
and Uncle Joe lamentably liable to have another attack, the Bingles
curtailed quite considerably in their preparations for the festivities
in honour of the five little Sykeses.


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