For years I've hoped that some enterprising editor would hire a hillbilly to go to the city and write his impressions of the quaint folkways of the cliff dwellers. I'd do it myself, cheap, and I've got a good questionnaire tucked away in readiness.

The old man had become a confirmed invalid, confined by chronic rheumatism to his chair.

He heard a voice and looked round to see a man wearing dark clothes.

I, in about two hours, notwithstanding the utmost caution, found myself minus upwards of six hundred pagodas […] .