"I can't hold it much longer—it'll break my wrist. He taught her how to read and write in Latin and Greek, often rewarding her for her efforts with a flower or a trinket. "Them's catchpoles, I s'pose, Sir, arter the gemman with a writ?" he observed. I have always loved you. In this cell was a huntsman, who had fractured his skull while hunting, and was perpetually hallooing after the hounds;—in that, the most melancholy of all, the grinning gibbering lunatic, the realization of "moody madness, laughing wild. Do you know whoso portrait this is?" "I do not," replied Thames, repressing his tears, "but I believe it to be the portrait of my father.
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