” “What do you mean—by too late?” he demanded. . . ‘What the devil for? I’ll have one of the men ride the creature up tomorrow. Goodbye. He ventured to the great gates, and by inserting his gimblets into the wood at intervals, so as to form points upon which he could rest his foot, he contrived, to ascend them; and when at the top, having fastened a portion of his dress to the spikes, he managed, not without considerable risk, to draw up his female companion. Single pearls— Lord knows where they come from!—are always turning up, some of them of fine lustre; but I never set eyes on them. With his foodle doo! This carpenter he had a wife, The plague and torment of his life, Who, though she did her husband scold, Loved well a woollen-draper bold.
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