The youth produced a crumpled-up card from his waistcoat pocket. "Quite captivated, Ma'am," added Mr. "Vat ish it, Mishter Vild?" inquired Mendez. ” “You’ll never pay me. Here he halted; and, looking upwards, read, at the foot of an immense sign-board, displaying a gaudily-painted angel with expanded pinions and an olive-branch, not the name he expected to find, but that of WILLIAM KNEEBONE, WOOLLENDRAPER. Go to her, I say, and take her in your arms, you poor benighted Ironsides! I can't make you see.
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