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IN ENGLAND

chimneys. Having landed, I discovered to my horror that I could neither speak nor understand a word of English. So I hid myself in the nearest train; fortunately it proved to be bound for London. FolkestoneOn the journey I observed that what I had regarded as England is really only a large English park, just fields and meadows, lovely trees, adorable field paths, with sheep here and there, as in Hyde Park. There are surprisingly few people about; in Czechoslovakia one is accustomed to see somebody busying himself on every inch of the soil.

At last the train bores its way between

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