139- The Man Who Could Work Miracles -2

Finding my brother, Del, dreaming again of a exotic place, wishing he was somewhere else, we offer you a escape. Escape with us now at the Placid English Village and the company of an equally placid little man who one day shook the world, as H. D. Wells told it, in his delightful story, the man who could work miracles.

Now, I might say, right in the beginning, that I ain't the kind of chap who has unnaturally argumentative disposition, almost, but the contrary. I'm a reasonable man who always takes proper thought to glory and speak.

I've won, who has a due, and takes the time to prove. Why, I ain't never ate my mouth to watch a word that wasn't a purer, and not a losing effect. That's what you say.

How so of her? When the man had been purely able, such as Toddy B. Mr. showed himself to be more than what? When a man like that insists upon airing his very peculiar opinions in a public place such as the Volkswagen bar. And I got no choice but to compound him with the superior knowledge because of this.

I'm sorry, that's right, so I'm safe. And if you can't contribute nothing but the same three words that this discussion I'll thank you to admit you're defeated and shut your mouth near now, Miss Deathbolt, they gave you a large easy dozen for our armed you, Constable. I'm only trying to enlighten the man from the bow of the

and he's a paneling in, and he takes coming up with his internal sound use day. Well, I'm a wasting the word, that's all. Because you have not played across this far away, there's too many times yesterday.