Page 29 (1/2)

“You need better friends than us Braver friends Grander friends Moremore famous friends”

“What’s fa?” Emily asked

“Fa to do whatever you want A couple of poor editors can’t ht But the Duke of Wellington can The Marquis of Douro can Lord Byron can”

“We don’t know any of those people,” protested Charlotte

“Lord Byron?” Easped

A great sigh of relief rippled through the bookends and bindings of Mr Bud and Mr Tree

“Well, I suppose I can do you a decent turn, then” Mr Bud smiled and reached behind the reception desk to fiddle with soht away She’s dressing maid to Miss Mary Percy—the missus and me are terrifically proud! It’ll be no trouble at all Ochreopolis has the fastest ghost in Glass Town”

“Ghost?” Charlotte repeated, sure she’d heard it wrong

“Ghost,” Mr Tree repeated, sure the child was deaf

“Post?” said Emily hopefully

“Ghost,” answered Mr Bud fires into the hands ant theot hands, you know If a body dies along the highway, so a cart up and down the sahosts will do Well, back in the timey mists, the first Marquis of Douro, eous idea to give those poor wights a job Everyas they were haunting this and that, why not take a sack of letters and parcels and suchlike while they’re host doesn’t have to obey the laws of theas you’ve got a name and a stamp They just listen to the earth or the heavenly spheres or so Can’t say I’ve ever understood it Now, Glass Town has regular routes all up and down the county! Wonder of the modern world!”

“Ah, but even patriots like ourselvesto Gondal on that score For”—the tall bookend-man cleared his throat politely—“obvious reasons A Gondalier can get a letter from Elseraden to Zedora before the ink is dry”

“Wait! What reasons? They’re not obvious to us,” interrupted E the sweat from her forehead

The editors glanced at one another knowingly, then away guiltily, then at their hands furtively, then toward heaven at last “There areahehosts in Gondal than in Glass Town, my dear,” Mr Tree , when the singing and theand the hurrahs are all done”

“Don’t you go feeling sorry for the their just desserts, and I hope there’s a fat cherry on top for each of them” Mr Bud stomped his foot “Why shouldn’t there be uilty for winning? Well, I won’t! We weren’t doing a thing butour own business when Napoleon decided he just had to be Napoleon and shoot up the place of a Sunday Old Boney could end it all in an instant, if he’d only inking well go home”