" "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. But no; she must step warily. So there is no escape. It was difficult to get right. 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. YOU did. He recognized me at once, and he behaved like a madman. The Hospital St. “Your arrival is really most opportune.
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