smallhobbit

I looked up, surprised to hear Holmes saying my name so loudly.  “What’s the matter?”

“You were ignoring me.  I was asking what you had found to read in your newspaper that was amusing you so much.”

“Sorry, Holmes.  It’s this report of the marathon race.”

“I didn’t think you were particularly interested in the Olympic Games.  If I recall rightly you referred to them as a carnival attraction rather than a proper expression of athletic prowess.”

“That remains the case.  However, the account of the marathon was so strange I had to read to the end.”

“Spare me the details but do tell me what particularly caught your attention.”

“The man who was originally taken to be the winner rode in an automobile for eleven miles.”

“Not quite playing the game.”

“Indeed not.  And the eventual winner was fed a diet of egg whites, strychnine, and brandy, which is not something I would recommend anyone try.”

“You may have a point.  Now, as the weather looks set fair for the moment, would you care to accompany me on a walk down to the village?  The distance is not that of a marathon, but I think it will do us both good.”

“Especially if we stop for a pint of beer at the Red Lion before we walk back!”