' Help! Travellers '

Summary


THE doorstep salesman pleaded, in a rapid, clipped Irish accent: "Now are ya sure you won't be wanting some lucky heather, Sir? "Gooow on. I can see yer a man who needs all the luck in the world."

I politely declined, explaining I didn't believe in such Romany superstitions. "Weeell," shrugged the middle-aged traveller, "you've been such a gentleman, so you have, I'll give you a lucky message for free, so I will. Read the words on this note and they'll bring ya good fortune for the rest of the day."

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Extract


' Help! Travellers '

He pushed the crumpled scrap of paper in my hands and cajoled: "Go on there, Sir - give it a quick read. You'll not regret it."

I scanned the stained, scrawled sheet. The words, in block capitals, ...

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