The gallant woollen-draper was now in his thirty-sixth year. " "That isn't the point, Hoddy. A moment before he had been a strong man, she had been in his power, a poor helpless thing. Wood," cried David, pouring out a glass of the spirit, and offering it to the carpenter, "that'll warm the cockles of your heart. And when there is no longer any need to use it, why then, enough you say—and throw it away. So perfect was the illusion, that he could almost fancy he heard the solemn voice of the ordinary warning him that his race was nearly run, and imploring him to prepare for eternity.
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