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Down a side road came a little string of solemn policemen, and threaded
itself ingeniously into the traffic. "Stand back," said the little
voices; "keep moving, please."
Young Caddles became aware of a little dark blue figure thumping at his
shin. He looked down, and perceived two white hands gesticulating.
"
"
"
"
"
What?" he said, bending forward.
Can't stand about here," shouted the inspector.
No! You can't stand about here," he repeated.
But where am I to go?"
Back to your village. Place of location. Anyhow, now--you've got to
move on. You're obstructing the traffic."
"
"
"
What traffic?"
Along the road."
But where is it going? Where does it come from? What does it mean?
They're all round me. What do they want? What are they doin'? I want to
understand. I'm tired of cuttin' chalk and bein' all alone. What are
they doin' for me while I'm a-cuttin' chalk? I may just as well
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