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“And then they are swollen up and inflamed and drunken with matter. This is part of a dream— some evil fancy. “What do you want to go out here for, Lucy?” He 217 asked. 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. Stanley, whose family had been by any reckoning inconsiderable—to use the kindliest term. His technique had gained much subtlety over the years.
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