But, bloodan'-'ouns! man, if ould Nick himself were to hit me a blow, I'd be afther givin' him another. It was obviously pitched well, hitting her head at a good thirtyfive miles per hour. “In the event of his death we should require you at once to attend at the inquest. And here against a wall were the plumtrees. " "No," answered the ruffian, moodily. Satisfied, as he thought, that he had nothing to apprehend, the boy resumed his task, chanting, as he plied his knife with redoubled assiduity, the following—not inappropriate strains:— THE NEWGATE STONE.
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