" "I've just bethought me of a crib as'll serve their turn," interposed Sharples, "at any rate, they'll be out o' the vay, and as safe as two chicks in a coop. Don't be afraid—I won't hurt you. Habits and tastes are no longer the same. “I made two fruit pies and now I have no one to eat them. Mountains out of molehills and armies out of windmills; and you'll tire yourself in one direction and shatter yourself in the other. " The crowd accordingly drew aside, and the individual, in whose behalf the movement had been made immediately stepped forward. “I wonder if you will?” “Let me say one thing,” he said. —'We'll do it,' said they, filling their glasses, and looking as fierce as King George's grenadier guards; 'here's your health, Mint. Yon must be mine to-night. But for perfect satisfaction, he must take a peek into the bedroom. ‘I think you know my affianced husband. Oui, dans la note. Spurlock was basically a poet, quick to recognize beauty, animate or inanimate, and to transcribe it in unuttered words. The tourist season would soon be at ebb, and it would be late in September before the tide returned.
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