all the pence he had about him, growling out: "Live on, you wretch! eat! last a long time! It is not I who would shorten your penal servitude." After which, he would rub his hands and say, "I do men all the harm I can."
Through the little window at the back, passers-by could read on the ceiling of the van these words, written within in big letters, but visible from without,—"Ursus, Philosopher."