_Nihil alienum a se Judaeus putat_.
Joe and his friend fell to recalling Dutch Sam's great feats.

Each out-vied the other in admiration for the supreme pugilist.
Next day Sleepy Sol came rampaging down the courtyard.

He walked at the rate of five miles to the hour, and despite the weight of his bag his head pointed to the zenith.
"Clo'!" he shrieked.

"Clo'!" Joe the hostler came out.

His head was bandaged, and in his hand was gold lace.