He didn't know your name, or he'd put it on." "Oh, it is from the owner of the bear," said I.
"Yes, sir," said the man, "that's him.

He did own a bear--he told me--that eat up your tire." I now tore open the blank envelope, and found it contained a letter on a single sheet, and in this was a folded paper, very dirty.

The letter was apparently written in Italian, and had no signature.

I ran my eye along the opening lines, and soon found that it would be a very difficult piece of business for me to read it.

I was a fair French and German scholar, but my knowledge of Italian was due entirely to its relationship with Latin.