Barney and the Secret of the French Spies

hiding from kidnappers who’d steal a likely child to train him as a pickpocket. I’d survived prison with Ma, when she was convicted for stealing just to keep me and her alive. Most children died in prison. I starved and caught prison fever, just like them. But unlike them, I lived. I’d crossed the world to the new colony in New South Wales, waves breaking right over the ship, rocks with wicked teeth that could wreck an armada, scurvy that rotted the teeth from your mouth and then killed you. (These days so many convicts and ships’ crews died on the voyage from England, but thanks to Captain Phillip, back on the First Fleet we’d nearly all lived.) I’d had to hide from older convicts who wanted to steal my rations before Elsie and I were rescued by Mr Johnson, the colony’s clergyman, and his wife. I’d been nearly bitten by a snake, almost eaten by a shark and in danger of being shot by a bushranger too. I’d survived all of that — and now I was going to be killed by a sheep. I’d have laughed if I hadn’t been terrified. Or if I’d had enough breath. No! No sheep was going to get the best of Barney Bean.

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