Even if you think he is a poor hand with the ring, if he tell you that I sent, do not despise my skills at random.

The poor old man with white hair and a white beard who is reading a book in his left hand lives alone in the little cottage at the foot of the hill behind my house.

Then it was, at this crisis of my fate, that my poor orphan companion, who had herself met with little but injuries in this world, stretched out a saving hand to me.