"Mother! dear mother!" cried Jack, folding her to his breast. Gay, the poet, who wrote the 'Captives,' which was lately acted at Drury Lane, and was so much admired by the Princess of Wales. " "Och! if he's a friend o' yours, my dear joy, there's no more to be said; and right sorry am I, I struck him. They would be partners only in loneliness. '" "What is that?" she asked. Certain phases of irony always caused him to chuckle audibly. “Do you want some of mine?” “Yes. So go up-stairs and get your things together while I look out for a hansom.
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