" "I should like a little of that plum-tart," said Mrs. She held her hand to the place where he had slapped her. “Glad to see you in London. “You are absurd,” she declared. But I can tell you who'll have the pleasure of hanging your father's son; and that's a person not a hundred miles distant from you at this moment—ha! ha!" As he said this, the door was opened, and Charcam entered, accompanied by a dwarfish, shabby-looking man, in a brown serge frock, with coarse Jewish features, and a long red beard. "And now, widow," he continued, "attend to the next verse, for it consarns a friend o' yours. Of all crafts,—and it was the only craft his poor father, who, to do him justice, was one of the best workmen that ever handled a saw or drove a nail, could never understand,—of all crafts, I say, to be an honest man is the master-craft. To-night she could have hugged both the old maids. " Captivity had, indeed, produced a striking alteration in Thames. “What do you mean?” Lucy asked.
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