“Oi, Flop, 'ere we are again—boots soaked, bow snapped in twain, an' brambles stuck in places no bramble should be—yet ye wag that tail like it’s the midsummer festival. Still, better off 'ere than back in the orphanage ol' gnomey plucked me from. So let’s wander off, lad, an' see what other sorts o' trouble we can stumble into today.”