I'll have some news for the boy.
Why, hang it, Walker man, I may be a bit stiff in the joints, but you'll be my witness that I can do my twelve miles under the three hours.

What then?
My eyes are as good as ever except just for the newspaper.

My head is clear.

I'm three-and-sixty, but I'm as good a man as ever I was--too good a man to lie up for another ten years.

I'd be the better for a smack of the salt water again, and a whiff of the breeze.