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. ’ ‘How do I know that?’ demanded Jack. "Bravo!" cried the thief-taker approvingly. ” She replied with a rehearsed answer, “I was told that my real mother died the day I was born. When she occupied, it, it was neatness itself; the little porch was overrun with creepers—the garden trim and exquisitely kept. "Hope to.
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