" "I feel it," replied Jack, in a tone of agony, "and I feel it more on my poor mother's account than my own. "Winifred Wood will never marry, unless the grave can give up its dead. The slack of her ridinghabit and full under-petticoats was gathered into her left hand, and her booted ankles were visible as she held the skirts well out of her way. Wood," cried David, pouring out a glass of the spirit, and offering it to the carpenter, "that'll warm the cockles of your heart. " A deep indignant groan followed. " "'Ouns!" ejaculated Terence, in alarm, "would you turn snitch on your old pal, Quilt?" "Ay, if he plays a-cross," returned Quilt.
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