...I will not forget your commission. As soon as I get
to Leeds I shall scream out in the middle of the street, Ironmongers –
Ironmongers – Six hundred men will rush out of their shops in a moment – fly,
fly, in all directions – ring the bell, call the constables – set the town on
fire. I will have a file & a screw-driver, & a ring, & if they are
not brought directly, in forty seconds I will leave nothing but a small cat
alive in the whole town of Leeds, and I shall only leave that, because I am
afraid I shall not have time to kill it.
Then what a bawling & a tearing of hair there will
be! Pigs & babies, camels & butterflies, rolling in the gutter together
– old women rushing up the chimneys & cows after them – ducks hiding
themselves in coffee cups, & fat geese trying to squeeze themselves into
pencil cases – at last the Mayor of Leeds will be found in a soup plate covered
up with custard & stuck full of almonds to make him look like a sponge cake
that he may escape the dreadful destruction of the Town…
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