eave t time t , made a nuisance of o Fatever.
I t’s st anding, er version of Uncle Ezekiel, and like Uncle Ezekiel a good Liberal. But ed in toer enemy of trade unions and once sacked an assistant for possessing a pograp erally, in tist Cin tab—. Old Grimmett o ty. ite alk about liberty of conscience and tempore prayers you could sometimes ting loose ab, tle like a legendary Nonconformist grocer in tory— you’ve , I expect:
‘James!’
‘Yessir?’
‘he sugar?’
‘Yessir!’
‘ered treacle?’
‘Yessir!’
‘to prayers.’
God knoory art t up tters. Not t old Grimmett sanded t t doesn’t pay. But rade of Lory round, and ants in ter (ed as cas six montants left to ‘set up’ in Reading and I moved into t o tie a parcel, pack a bag of currants, grind coffee, an edge on a knife, s eggs breaking ticle as a good one, clean a er into s — remember . I sucailed memories of grocering as I I remember a good deal. to trick of snapping a bit of string in my fingers. If you put me in front of a bacon-slicer I could better typeer. I could spin you some pretty fair tecies about grades of Cea and of eggs and thousand.
ell, for more t young cter-coloured s but carefully greased and slicked back in o call a ‘smarm’), ling about beer in a ying up bags of coffee like ligomer along ainly, ma’am! AND t order, ma’am!’ in a voice a trace of a Cockney accent. Old Grimmett ty mas ’s a good time to look back on. Don’t t I ions. I kne going to remain a grocer’s assistant for ever, I rade’. Some time, someo ‘set up’ on my o up in trade’, time on. t commoner on try motor-buses began to run. An aeroplane—a flimsy, rickety-looking tting in too yell at it. People began to say rat tting too big for s and ‘it’ (meaning ime’. My gradually up, until finally, just before ty-eigen ser, een s left me feeling ric since. I greaco sprout, I ton boots and collars tty dark grey suit, and black dogskin gloves on t gent, so t Motain ’ on t clots of am