W. Pett Ridge, Mixed Grill — The Rest Cure (1913)
“ Gleeson, crossing over, added himself to the audience.“Well spoke,” sang the crowd, as the large man appeared to finish. “Very well putt!”“There's my shop 'cross there,” shouted the orator, pointing to windows that had “Crutchley, Butcher,” in marble letters overhead. “If any one thinks I've broke the law, that's where they can serve a summons.”The crowd looked around at the village constable. The constable frowned with the air of a man who had not entirely succeeded in making up his mind.“We've got our rights,” the butcher went on, “and I defy any one to say the contrairy. ”
