Lawson, better luck next time!” it sounded funny to me. When I was leaving Casualty Ward of Sydney Hospital – which Chamber of Horrors I shall always remember kindly – I shook hands with a boy who’d had some toes cut off – a manly little fellow – and he said: “Good-bye, Mr. Have often met people who didn’t understand me. Talked all the time, but don’t think Sly or the policeman sent for understood me. I’ve been seldom sick in my life, and then I always wanted to get away and be quiet, and not messed about with) was helped, not carried, to top of cliff. “Well, what more do you want?” he demanded.
Attempt frustrated by one Sly, a fisherman, the burthen of whose song, to the top of the cliff, was “You’re a lucky man! By _, you are a lucky man!” “How do you make that out?” I asked at last. I distinctly remember, when I found myself alive, trying to crawl in under a shelf of rock with a wild idea of hiding. Heard or read somewhere that the first instinct of hurt animals is to crawl away and hide themselves. Had whiskey on board, an may have taken no particular interest in the matter after I slipped and have fallen limp. (Pipe, tobacco and matches safe.) don’t remember whether there was a gust of wind against he cliff at the tie – if so, the air thrown upwards might have helped me. Landed between jagged rocks on bed of sand – or sand and rubble. Fell sheer, as far as I remember, and the condition of my clothes bears this out – coat and waist-coat all right, pants torn a little near the knee and foot of one leg, one boot “bust”. I’ll settle that with a tape-measure and the help of the man who picked me up – and another to hang on to my coat-tail – when I get on my feet again. Some say eighty feet, some ninety, and one man swore t was a hundred. Had a fall a week or two back – it wasn’t the first.
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