"It is not only that I am not myself, because of the many hours spent upon hard leather, and vile chalks of flint that go by me half asleep, when I ought to be snoring in the feathers; neither has it anything to do with my consuming the hide of some quadruped for dinner, instead of meat.

And the bread is made of rye, if of any grain at all; I rather think of spent tan, kneaded up with tallow ends, such as I have seen cast by in bushels, when the times were good.

And every loaf of that costs two shillings--one for me, and one for Government.

They all seem to acknowledge that I can put up with that; and I make a strict point of mild language, which enables them to do it again with me.
And all up and down the roads, everybody likes me.

But if I was shot to-morrow, would they care twopence ?" "I am sure they would, sir; and a good deal more than that," answered Frank, who perceived that his father was out of his usual lines of thinking, perhaps because he had just had a good dinner--so ill do we digest our mercies.