"Mother—dear mother!" said Jack, bursting into tears. ‘How did you get in? The house is all locked up. Look in the small hide-bound book that he keeps in his boot. Wood in a sharp tone. " He sent the doctor a sly glance. For fully five minutes he lay quite motionless. I am—’ ‘Like me, entirely English. ” She said. While this took place, while Quilt thundered at the inner door, and Jack drew back the bolts of the outer, a deep, manly voice was heard chanting—as if in contempt of the general uproar—the following strain:— With pipe and punch upon the board, And smiling nymphs around us; No tavern could more mirth afford Than old Saint Giles's round-house! The round-house! the round-house! The jolly—jolly round-house! "The jolly, jolly round-house!" chorussed Sheppard, as the last bar yielded to his efforts. I am grateful, indeed I am. Majorities, right or wrong, dare not revolt.
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