The Fighting Begins

           Saturdaylivesinmymemoryasadayofsuspense. Itwasadayoflassitudetoo,hotandclose,with,Iamtold,arapidlyfluctuatingbarometer. Ihadsleptbutlittle,thoughmywifehadsucceededinsleeping,andIroseearly. Iwentintomygardenbeforebreakfastandstoodlistening,buttowardsthecommontherewasnothingstirringbutalark. 

           Themilkmancameasusual. IheardtherattleofhischariotandIwentroundtothesidegatetoaskthelatestnews. HetoldmethatduringthenighttheMartianshadbeensurroundedbytroops,andthatgunswereexpected. Then—afamiliar,reassuringnote—IheardatrainrunningtowardsWoking. 

           "Theyaren’ttobekilled,"saidthemilkman,"ifthatcanpossiblybeavoided." 

           Isawmyneighbourgardening,chattedwithhimforatime,andthenstrolledintobreakfast. Itwasamostunexceptionalmorning. MyneighbourwasofopinionthatthetroopswouldbeabletocaptureortodestroytheMartiansduringtheday. 

           "It’sapitytheymakethemselvessounapproachable,"hesaid. "Itwouldbecurioustoknowhowtheyliveonanotherplanet; wemightlearnathingortwo." 

           Hecameuptothefenceandextendedahandfulofstrawberries,forhisgardeningwasasgenerousasitwasenthusiastic. AtthesametimehetoldmeoftheburningofthepinewoodsabouttheByfleetGolfLinks. 

           "Theysay,"saidhe,"thatthere’sanotherofthoseblessedthingsfallenthere—numbertwo. Butone’senough,surely. Thislot’llcosttheinsurancepeopleaprettypennybeforeeverything’ssettled." 

           Helaughedwithanairofthegreatestgoodhumourashesaidthis.