Sir George Herbert Extract
Sir George Herbert was quite a character. To say he was popular with the locals was
an understatement. He was one of the most eccentric aristocrats in town. His huge
smile matched the wide gates of his enormous residence.
It was early evening when he charged into The Swan opening the door with his usual
vigour. Looking around and staring at his familiar audience with his cheerful blue
eyes as if the publicans were family he had not seen for years.
He slouched lazily at a table near the bar, leaned back slowly and placed his hands
into his pockets to retrieve some crumpled up bits of paper and loose coins with
which he proceeded to carefully count. He liked what he counted so much, that he
laughed raucously, his smile revealing the lines on his rosy face. He clapped his
hands and raised one in the air shouting a request for a pint of the barman’s finest
ale. Completely unaware of his audience, he felt the hole in the arm of his scruffy
tweed suit and slumped in his chair.