The close, neat, regular handwriting was not attractive at first sight.

But in one place the statement that in A.D.1813 the writer was twenty-two years old caught my eye.

Two and twenty is an interesting age in which one is easily reckless and easily frightened; the faculty of reflection being weak and the power of imagination strong.
In another place the phrase: "At night we stood in again," arrested my languid attention, because it was a sea phrase.

"Let's see what it is all about," I thought, without excitement.
Oh! but it was a dull-faced MS., each line resembling every other line in their close-set and regular order.

It was like the drone of a monotonous voice.