human
Stevenson came by it in a strange way. He told me he was goin' over a battle-field after a scrimmage near Suakim, lookin' out for the wounded, when he noticed somethin' clasped in a dead man's hand. The hand gripped it tight, as if unwillin' to part with it, an' when Stevenson got it he found that it was this little book, `The Victory.' Here it is. I wouldn't change it for a golden sov, to every page.
gpt
See there, now! he said remonstratively,