” “I can’t go back to the Beck’s ever again. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. " "A secret!" exclaimed Trenchard. I must go to work again. . " "Waste not another word with him, Thames," cried Jack. You'll be along next spring?" "If the old tub will float. 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.
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