Jim took one of these and rattled the letterbox in a perfect impression of a man dropping pennies into it. Norman's shop was closed for the half day and a few copies of the midweek Mercury still remained in the wire rack to the front door. Ah yes, that is the life.īut naught, however, remained to signal that either Jim Pooley or John Omally had ever been there, naught but for two half-consumed pints of Large going warm upon the table and a saloon-bar door which swung quietly to and fro upon its hinge. At night a time for reverie about the crackling campfire, the sweet smell of mossy peat and pine needles. In harmony with the Arcadian Spirits of olden Earth. Birdsong swelling at dawn to fill the ears. Days in sylvan glades watching the sunshine dancing between the leaves and dazzling the eyes. An opportunity to get away from it all and commune with nature. The old nights under canvas, the wind in your hair and fresh air in your lungs. There are many pleasures to be had in camping out. 'I can only counsel caution and the maintaining of the now legendary low profile.' 'But "early arrest", what do you think that means?'
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