After that he'll have his smoke, and sit there thinkin' about me, perhaps, and old days, and what not, till all hours--till his wife comes and fetches him in.
And here I lie--my God! why didn't they knock me on the head when I was born, like a lamb in a dry season, or a blind puppy--blind enough, God knows! They do so in some countries, if the books say true, and what a hell of misery that must save some people from! Well, it's done now, and there's no get away.

I may as well make the best of it.

A sergeant of police was shot in our last scrimmage, and they must fit some one over that.

It's only natural.

He was rash, or Starlight would never have dropped him that day.