Rodney, with the boy at his side, is covering ground in a state of blissful uncertainty. He may be a mile from home, or ten miles, for all he knows, and the boy seems none the wiser.,
The badger put his head out of the hole and said, "What do you want, my brother?",
As a rule it always is late, except when it is preternaturally early; sometimes it comes at half-past ten, sometimes with the hot water. There is a blessed uncertainty about its advent that keeps every one on the tiptoe of expectation, and probably benefits circulation..
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