The Handcuffs Are Not for Me

Blacksmith, said the sergeant, who had by this time picked out joe with his eye. Wanted for immediate service. Will you throw your eye over them? Joe threw his eye over them and pronounced that the job would necessitate the lighting of his forage fire, and would take nearer two hours than one. This was received as rather neat in the sergeant, insomuch that mister pumblechook cried audibly. Good again, you'll see. It's just gone half past two. As it's on his majesty's service, and if my men can bear a hand anywhere, they'll make themselves useful. With that, he called to his men, who came

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