Close to the line.


One day a man from the city arrives by train at Little Massingham station in Norfolk. He is surprised and annoyed to not find any horse and trap to take him into any of the nearest villages, each one some mile and a half away.
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Exhausted after dragging his heavy trunk up and down the steep hills (yes, really; hills, in Norfolk!), he finally arrives at the Rose and Crown public house, Harpley, and where he has a room booked for the night.

Without extending the courtesy of a greeting or introducing himself, he asks the Landlord:

"My good man. Why is the railway station so far from the village?"

Landlord hesitates. Takes long, slow suck on pipe, fixes steely Norfolk gaze and replies:

"Yew fooel. Tha's so tha's close t'line. Wotevurr yew loik?!"

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