Foreign News: Post-Pleistocene

Wot cheer! All the nybors cried . . . 'Oo yer goin' ter meet, Bill? 'Ave yer bought the street, Bill? Laugh! I thought I should o' died, Knocked 'em in the Old Kent Road.

The dismal winter was done. For three weeks the English spring had been a perfection of soft breezes, clear blue skies, sunshine and gentle rains. Daffodils for once outdid even Wordsworth. Beer was back to its last August's (less than 3% of alcohol by volume) strength. As May drew to a close and Whitsuntide—the first of the summer holidays—came and...

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