For hats that fail and hats that flare; Toppers their universal wear; A man scores always, everywhere. Hitherto you’ve seen only my easy, kindly side. He looked fiercely and inquiringly from one to the other of his companions; but, though both of them were excessively frightened, neither appeared guilty. "Mac, you old son-of-a-gun!" "Got a man's breakfast?" McClintock demanded to know. Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street. Crossing them, he ascended an eminence, which, from its singular shape, seems to have been the site of a Roman encampment, and which commands a magnificent prospect. "'Odd's-my-life! what's this?" exclaimed the carpenter, looking at the superscription of one of them. ‘But this is not to my blame, grandpére.
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