Explore "Bilger, of Sydney" by Louis Becke on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
A death in the family brought about my fatal acquaintance with Bilger. / A few days after the funeral, as my sister and I sat talking on the / verandah of our cottage (which overlooked the waters of Sydney Harbour) / and listened to the pouring rain upon the shingled roof, we saw a man / open the garden gate and come slowly up to the house. He carried an / ancient umbrella, the tack lashings of which on one side had given way / entirely, showing six bare ribs. As he walked up the path, his large, / sodden boots made a nasty, squelching sound, and my sister, who has a / large heart, at once said, 'Poor creature; I wonder who he is. I hope it / isn't the coal man come for his money.'
He went round to the back door and, after letting himself drain off a / bit, knocked gently and with exceeding diffidence.