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It goes on—

It goes on until a hundred is reached, proceeding after twenty by tens. And so, gradually, as the song went on, the houses opened apart, and the road ahead was a simple white line. On either hand thousands of lights showed valleys and hills; but ahead there was a promising darkness, and out of it came the Watercress Man with a basket of wild flowers on his back.

"Sir," said he, setting down his flowers slowly, "the price of a pint of ale won't hurt you, I suppose? I have drunk nothing since yesterday morning."

"But have you eaten anything?" I asked, ready to admire him for asking first for drink.

"No," said he, "I have neither eaten nor drunken. I drink four ale."

"Thank you," he said, when I had given him twopence for drink and twopence for food. "We are all sons of one mother. You can't get away from that."

"Then we are brothers," said I.

"Certainly, if you will."