I was unlucky. I fell from a train at full speed. I was picked up for
dead. French soldiers came and carried me away for burial. There were
some women about. It was, I think, a woman who came up and looked at
me and noticed something which made her think I was not a corpse--not
yet. It’ll take a lot to kill me! So I was resurrected. I’m a good bit
broken--something in my back, something in my head. Oh, yes; it’s a bad
pain when I move. But that’ll be all right soon. I don’t look bad, do
I? _An Irish Private_.