"It was that song that put it into my head to cut my name on the beam. He stood on the top step for a moment, lost in deep thought. As they're so fond of each other's society they shan't part company even on that occasion, but shall swing from the same tree. A short way off in the fields he descried a sort of shed or cow-house, and thither he contrived to drag his weary limbs. “Mr. But shurely I'd know that vice," he added, turning his lantern towards the janizary. “Annabel;” he moaned. He turned the wheel carefully as he touched her neck with the other, threading her soft curls in between his slim fingers. He seemed to be labouring under some great excitement. And the age gets higher. His business has thriven; legacies have unexpectedly dropped into his lap; and, to crown all, he has made a large fortune by a lucky speculation in South-Sea stock,—made it, too, where so many others have lost fortunes, your humble servant amongst the number—ha! ha! In a word, Sir, Mr. My servant.
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