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What's that? Well, do you want me to read the papers or not? And how shall I do that
without... Yes. How shall I do it without my glasses? Alright... then. Alright. *Clears
throat* One fine summer evening Flashman had been regaling himself on gin punch at Brownsover
and having exceeded his usual limits started home, uproarious. He fell in with a friend
or two, coming back from [?], proposed a glass of beer, to which they accepted, the weather
being hot, and they thirsty souls and unaware of the quantity of drink which Flashman had
already had onboard. The short result was that Flashy became beastly drunk. They tried
to get him along but couldn't, so they chartered a hurdle and two men to carry him. One of
the masters came upon them and they naturally enough fled. The flight of the rest excited
the master's suspicions and the good angel of the *** incited him to examine the freight,
and after examination, to convoy the hurdle himself up to the school-house,
and the Doctor, who had long had his eye
on Flashman.