Mr. Skelmersdale in Fairyland

“There’s a man in that shop,” said the Doctor, “who has been in Fairyland.”

“Nonsense!” I said, and stared back at the shop. It was the usual village shop, postoffice, telegraph wire on its brow, zinc pans and brushes outside, boots, shirtings, and potted meats in the window. “Tell me about it,” I said, after a pause.

“I don’t know,” said the Doctor. “He’s an ordinary sort of lout— Skelmersdale is his name. But everybody about here believes it like Bible truth.” I reverted presently to the topic.

“I know nothing about it,” said the Doctor, “and I don’t want to know. I attended him for a broken finger—Married and Single cricket match— and that’s when I struck the nonsense. That’s all. But it shows you the sort of stuff I have to deal with, anyhow, eh? Nice to get modern sanitary ideas into a people like this!”[...]

Herbert George Wells - Герберт Джордж Уэллс - هربرت جورج ويلز