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Pity the Braiv English Seamen, Wonded in the Wars, Help them as cannot help theirselves, We have Bled for our nativland. Nelson and Bronte. This wonderful conveyance pulled up among the sheep. The one-legged man stood upright in the cart, called for three cheers, and at once began to roar out the never-ending ballad of the battle of Belle Isle:
Soon Mr Wilson and the wonded detective manged to bind up their wonds and got up off the floor it I will have that dasstads life now sneered they if we have to swing for it him he shall not eccape us again the low down Chapiter seventh
At this moment the caravan started, and the man urged me to enter the waggon again. I did so; but as I turned away, Marah smiled in an absurd manner at me, and bowed three times, making everybody laugh. That made me feel sure that he would help me to escape, and to get home again. I could not help laughing at his trick of dressing up as "a braiv English seaman, wonded in the war."
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