“Lift up one corner of the curtain for me. Pile it on! But if you can hear the voice of the mote, the speck, don't let her suffer for anything I've done. Through this confusion the carpenter struggled on;—now ascending, now descending the different mountains of rubbish that beset his path, at the imminent peril of his life and limbs, until he arrived in Fleet Street. On coming to himself, he found he had been wrapped in a blanket and put to bed with a couple of hot bricks to his feet.
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This video was uploaded to flood-rescue.com on 14-07-2024 20:40:11
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