"It is", seplied Winifred; "have you brought any tidings of Thames Darrell!" "Troth have I!" replied Terence: "but, bless your angilic face, how did you contrive to guess that?" "Is he well?—is he safe?—is he coming back," cried the little girl, disregarding the question. ” He demanded as she opened her eyes and stopped moaning. Unable to withstand this appeal, Thames gave the required promise, adding, —"Oh! Winny, I wish Mr. ” He stood before her, his hat in his hand, his head bent, his voice lowered to a convenient pitch. They moved fast. You don’t have to live forever to understand that. It was a dismal and depressing sight to see a great city thus suddenly overthrown; and the carpenter was deeply moved by the spectacle. I tell you I’m Meysey Hill, the railway man. .
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