Thesontossedasilvercointhroughthesunlight，grumblingsomethingaboutbeggarsandjugglers。Itwasafour-annapiece，andwouldfeedthemwellfordays。Thelama，seeingtheflashofthemetal，dronedablessing。
`Gothyway，FriendofalltheWorld，’pipedtheoldsoldier，wheelinghisscrawnymount。`ForonceinallmydaysIhavemetatrueprophet-
whowasnotintheArmy。’
Fatherandsonswungroundtogether：theoldmansittingaserectastheyounger。
APunjabiconstableinyellowlinentrousersslouchedacrosstheroad。