I saw him last night at Jonathan Wild's, after my escape from the New Prison. "Ay, what's the matter, boy!" reiterated Jackson sternly. The door was closed— locked,—and the pair were heard descending the stairs. ’ ‘What?’ gasped Alderley in shock. I wish that it worked. Having traced the footsteps to the wall, and perceiving no outlet, Blueskin elevated the lamp, and discovered marks of bloody fingers on the boards. Ennison spoke at last. 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.
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