Then he sat down again in a chair and said that people who wrote novels ought to be strung up. 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. There was no one stirring in the flats. . ” “I told them a lie. " "A mother's blessing on you," replied Mrs. " Silence. “But, my dear,” she began, “it is Impossible! It is quite out of the Question. "My lips would belie my heart were I to refuse you. E.
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