If I were Mr. ’ Trodger frowned, and chewed his lip. Thames took it, and beheld the portrait of a young man, apparently—judging from his attire—of high rank, whose proud and patrician features certainly presented a very striking resemblance to his own. He stopped short of a group of adolescent saplings and turned the ignition off. ‘You don’t mind if I sit down?’ She considered him a moment, her head a little on one side. " "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. He went on with his song, accompanying it with the most ridiculous grimaces: "When years were gone by, she began to rue Her love for the gentleman, (meaning you!) 'I slighted the journeyman fond,' quoth she, 'But where is my gallant of high degree? Where! where! Oh! where is my gallant of high degree?' Ho! ho! ho!" "What are you doing here!" demanded Thames. Don’t think I can’t sympathize and understand. ” “To a friend?” “To lodgings—alone. It towered up high above the level of the pass, thousands of feet, still, shining, and white, and below, thousands of feet below, was a floor of little woolly clouds. But she must stop him getting away. I could resist the tempter now, I am strong in health,—in mind. I dare say it will be chattered about for weeks. It’s for you to say if I may sit on it. " CHAPTER V.
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