"If Jack would come to my house, I'd contrive to hide him," remarked a buxom dame. The sing-song girl rose and meekly pattered out of the office into the night. Home!— which I never hoped to see again. She had no inkling of that insupportable wrong. Briefly explained, she was as the child who discards the rag baby for the living one. Ah, these English! They travelled all over, up and down the world, not to acquire information but rather to leave the impress of their superiority as a race. "Come with me, my love, come—come," cried his mother, seizing his hand, and endeavouring to force him away.
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