Mr. Deuceace at Paris by William Makepeace Thackeray

My tail is droring rabidly to a close; my suvvice with Mr. Deuceace / didn't continyou very long after the last chapter, in which I described / my admiral strattyjam, and my singlar self-devocean. There's very few / servnts, I can tell you, who'd have thought of such a contrivance, and / very few moar would have eggsycuted it when thought of.

But, after all, beyond the trifling advantich to myself in selling / master's roab de sham, which you, gentle reader, may remember I woar, / and in dixcovering a fipun note in one of the pockets, -- beyond this, / I say, there was to poar master very little advantich in what had been / done. It's true he had escaped. Very good. But Frans is not like Great / Brittin; a man in a livry coat, with 1 arm, is pretty easily known, and / caught, too, as I can tell you.