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. I’m a little tired. " "With a face as square and flat as a bottle of gin. Wood, "and I'm sorry and surprised he hasn't swung for his crimes before this. ‘No, let me guess,’ he interrupted. Wood, "it may be poisoned. But seriously, things are not so bad as you think. "He is all alone. " "Why what will she say?" inquired Sheppard. “Ruin me? Think of me with fondness? Are you dying of cancer or something?” He demanded. "Get up, then," said Jack, freeing his foot from the stirrup.
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