few pints o' water, an' muddy water at that. I can't tell ezackly
when or how we discovered they was all blind, or near-upon blind.
It may ha' been from the unhandiness of their movements an' the way
they clutched at us an' at one another as we pulled 'em ashore.
Hows'ever, blind they were; an' I don't remember that it struck us as
anyways singular, after what we'd been through a'ready. We fished
out a concertina, too, an' a silver-mounted flute that was bobbin'
among the weeds.

"The man the concertina belonged to--a tall fresh-complexioned young
fella he was, an' very mild of manner--turned out to be a sort o'
leader o' the party; an' he was the first to talk any sense.
'Th-thank you,' he said. 'They told us Penzance was the next stop.'

"'Hey?' says I.

"'They told us,' he says again, plaintive-like, feelin' for his
spectacles an' not finding 'em, 'that Penzance was the next stop.'

"'Bound for Penzance, was you?' I asks.

"'For the Land's End,' says he, his teeth chatterin'. I set it down
the man had a stammer, but 'twas only the shock an' the chill of his
duckin'.

"'Well,' says I, 'this ain't the Land's End, though I dessay it feels
a bit like it. Then you wasn' _thrown_ out?' I says.

"'Th-thrown out?' says he. 'N-no. They told us Penzance was the
next stop.'

"'Then,' says I, 'if you got out accidental you've had a most
providential escape, an' me an' my mates don't deserve less than to
hear about it. There's bound to be inquiries after you when the
guard finds your compartment empty an' the door open. May be the
train'll put back; more likely they'll send a search-party; but
anyways you're all wet through, an' the best thing for health is to
off wi' your clothes an' dry 'em, this warm afternoon.'

"'I dessay,' says he, 'you'll have noticed that our eyesight is
affected.'

"'All the better if you're anyways modest,' says I. 'You couldn'
find a retirededer place than this--not if you searched: an' _we_
don't mind.'

"Well, sir, the end was we stripped 'em naked as Adam, an' spread
their clothes to dry 'pon the grass. While we tended on 'em the mild
young man told us how it had happened. It seems they'd come by
excursion from Exeter. There's a blind home at Exeter, an' likewise
a cathedral choir, an' Sunday school, an' a boys' brigade, with other
sundries; an' this year the good people financin' half a dozen o'
these shows had discovered that by clubbin' two sixpences together a
shill