For we’ve thrown out the last bag of sand!
To recourse—ah, I had but an instant.
I leapt—with a cry—to the ground.
And, Heaven be praised for its mercy!
I stood with the girl safe and sound.
* * * * *
“And that’s how I lost my arm, sir.
If the thing don’t strike you as clear,
Put it down to a few o’ the trials I’ve gone through,
Or—perhaps it’s along o’ this beer.”