"To be sure, it's not surprising the poor little thing should be so marked; for, when I lay in the women-felons' ward in Newgate, where he first saw the light, or at least such light as ever finds entrance into that gloomy place, I had nothing, whether sleeping or waking, but halters, and gibbets, and coffins, and such like horrible visions, for ever dancing round me! And then, you know, Sir—but, perhaps, you don't know that little Jack was born, a month before his time, on the very day his poor father suffered. “They were sent to me by Mr. Give me but leave to try. . "I feel like work," he lied. Hearing the distant shouts, these fellows rushed down to the entrance of the court, and arrived there just as Jack passed it. And it’s no use thinking he’d stop her.
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