“A penny for the poor, sir?”
A little boy with a dirty face smiled servilely.
“By no means!” replied Jap. “And look here, my boy…”
A brief sermon followed. The disappointed street urchin ran off, quickly commenting to his young friends: “Damn it, I got a well-dressed policeman!”
The gang vanished in smoke, singing: Remember, remember The fifth of November Gunpowder treason and plot. We see no reason Why gunpowder treason Should ever be forgot.
With the chief inspector was a small elderly man with an oval head and a large, military-style mustache, who was chuckling.
“Très bien, Jap,” he remarked. “Well done on your sermon!” “We’ve just found an opportunity for begging… because this happens on Guy Fawkes Night!” Jap commented.
“An interesting legacy,” said Hercule Poirot thoughtfully. “The fireworks rise into the sky, explode, while the man they commemorate and his deed have already passed into oblivion.” The Scotland Yard policeman agreed.
“Don’t think most of these kids have any idea who Guy Fawkes is.” “And soon enough, undoubtedly, they will be confused: Is it an honor or a contempt to set off fireworks on November 5th? Was the blowing up of the English Parliament a sin or a noble act?”
Jap chuckled. “Some would certainly argue the latter.” The two men left the main street behind and turned into a relatively quiet neighborhood with mansions.