CHAPTER THREE

ON HORSELL COMMON

I found a little crowd of perhaps twenty people surrounding the

huge hole in which the cylinder lay. I have already described the

appearance of that colossal bulk, embedded in the ground. The turf

and gravel about it seemed charred as if by a sudden explosion. No

doubt its impact had caused a flash of fire. Henderson and Ogilvy

were not there. I think they perceived that nothing was to be done

for the present, and had gone away to breakfast at Henderson's house.

There were four or five boys sitting on the edge of the Pit, with

their feet dangling, and amusing themselves--until I stopped them--by

throwing stones at the giant mass. After I had spoken to them about

it, they began playing at "touch" in and out of the group of

bystanders.

Among these were a couple of cyclists, a jobbing gardener I

employed sometimes, a girl carrying a baby, Gregg the butcher and his

little boy, and two or three loafers and golf caddies who were

accustomed to hang about the railway station. There was very little

talking. Few of the common people in England had anything but the

vaguest astronomical ideas in those days. Most of them were staring

quietly at the big table like end of the cylinder, which was still as

The War of the Worlds