Explore "The Maid of Sker" by R.D. Blackmore on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Nothing less than steadfast faith, and an ancient British constitution, can have enabled me to survive this highly-dappled period. It was not in my body only, or legs, or parts I think nothing of, but in my brain that I felt it most, when I had the sense to feel it. And having a brain which has no right to claim exemption from proper work, because of being under average, I happened to take a long time to recover from so many spots striking inwards. An empty-headed man might have laughed at the little drills into his brainpan; but with me (as with a good beehive early in October) there could not be the prick of a bradawl but went into honey. And so my brain was in a buzz for at least a twelvemonth afterwards.
Therefore I now must tell what happened, rather as it is told to me, than as myself remember it. Only you must not expect such truth, as I always give, while competent.