Away off in the fields the bluesmocked peasants bent still at their toil. Better get back now! You be careful. 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. Stanley poured wine. "Recollect you are in my power. She had gone into Morgan's one afternoon for a bag of salt. ‘You don’t know him.
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