My dad recommended Praddy as a master.

He worked in the Praed studio, but got the chuck over some foolery.

Then as he couldn't face his poor old Governor, he enlisted in the Bechuanaland Border police, came out to South Africa and got let in for this show.

The doctors and nurses give him about a month and he doesn't know it.

He can't talk much owing to his jaw being tied up--usually he writes me messages, all about going home and being a good boy, turning over a new leaf, and so on.