This person came to me recommended by one of my street acquaintances
as the “pluckiest fire-eater going,” and that as he was a little
“down at heel,” he should be happy for a consideration to give me any
information I might require in the “Salamander line.”
He was a tall, gaunt man, with an absent-looking face, and so pale that
his dark eyes looked positively wild.
I could not help thinking, as I looked at his bony form, that fire
was not the most nutritious food in the world, until the poor fellow
explained to me that he had not broken his fast for two days.