Do you know whoso portrait this is?" "I do not," replied Thames, repressing his tears, "but I believe it to be the portrait of my father. His skill has not been tried. Should it e'er be my lot to ride backwards that way, At the door of the Crown I will certainly stay; I'll summon the landlord—I'll call for the Bowl, And drink a deep draught to the health of my soul! Whatever may hap, I'll taste of the tap, To keep up my spirits when brought to the crap! For nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles So well as a draught from the Bowl of St. " "Ah! Did he tell you anything about himself?" "Aside from that, no. ” “You have not seen the evening paper?” “No. As this seemed insufficient, after a lapse of five minutes, he added another hundred weight. I'll repay you. I think we rest here until to-morrow?” There was a brief silence. “She can’t. ’ The dimple that so fascinated Melusine peeped in her great-aunt’s cheek.
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