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Wallet in London
One of the most vivid of my childhood memories took place in London. We lived there as oil expats-- my mother was a Brit, naturalized US, who married an oil man and we had recently arrived from Libya after the Khadaffi Revolution. We lived near Sloan Square and my mother and I were walking along the street on some errand. We both saw a wallet just laying on the sidewalk with no one even close. It was bulging with the multi-colored pound notes. I mean, there must have been a couple of thousand dollars (equivalent) in the thing, it could not even be folded over. This was about 1972.
So my mother picked it up and carried it in plain site until we found a bobby. She walked up to the cat and handed him the wallet without a word. Then we walked off.
Which impressed me. I do wonder about the expression on the owner's face once he recovered his money. This was during the bombing of North Vietnam so as Yanks (naturalized or otherwise) we took a lot of grief.
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Non illegitimi carborundum est. - Don't let the bastards grind you down.
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