But I should have liked more opportunity to say a few farewell words of advice to the children, especially as regards my fishing rod, which they will persist in using for cricket stumps; and I hate having to run for a train.
Quarter of a mile from the station I overtook George and Harris; they were also running.

In their case--so Harris informed me, jerkily, while we trotted side by side--it was the new kitchen stove that was to blame.
This was the first morning they had tried it, and from some cause or other it had blown up the kidneys and scalded the cook.

He said he hoped that by the time we returned they would have got more used to it.
We caught the train by the skin of our teeth, as the saying is, and reflecting upon the events of the morning, as we sat gasping in the carriage, there passed vividly before my mind the panorama of my Uncle Podger, as on two hundred and fifty days in the year he would start from Ealing Common by the nine-thirteen train to Moorgate Street.
From my Uncle Podger's house to the railway station was eight minutes' walk.

What my uncle always said was: "Allow yourself a quarter of an hour, and take it easily." What he always did was to start five minutes before the time and run.

I do not know why, but this was the custom of the suburb.