There was also a black ugly lump on his brow, as big as a pigeon's egg, which was horrible to look at in the bit glass.

Many a gallant soldier escaped from Waterloo with less scaith--and that they did.

Poor innocent sowl! I pitied him from the very bottom of my heart--as who would not?
Having got an inkling of the town-talk by breakfast-time, and knowing also that many a one--such is the corruption of human nature--would like to have a hair in the neck of James, by taking up an evil report, I remembered within myself that a friend in need is a friend indeed, and cannily papped up the close, after I had got myself shaved, to see how the land lay.

And a humbling spectacle it was! James could scarcely yet be said to be himself, for his eyes were like scored collops, and his stomach was so sick that his face was like ill-bleached linen--pale as a dishclout.

When he tried to speak, it was between a bock and a hiccup with him, and my feeling for his situation was such--knowing, as I did, all the ins and outs of the business--that I could not help being very wae for him.