At last Owen had obtained the long-desired book. In its dilapidated
condition, it appeared to have passed through as many catastrophies as
old Robinson himself, not excepting the shipwreck, for some careless
reader had let it fall into a bucket of water, on which account it had
lost one of its covers and expanded to wonderful proportions. A whole
category of Robinson's admirers had made use of that old-time way of
marking the place, (often condemned, but more often practiced,) until
almost every page was dog's-eared. Although these marks detracted from
the appearance of the book, they by no means lowered it in Owen's
estimation. On the contrary, he regarded it in the same light that he
would a veteran soldier who had served in many campaigns, and whose
reputation was enhanced by the number of wounds he had received.