I MUST. And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry. Through this confusion the carpenter struggled on;—now ascending, now descending the different mountains of rubbish that beset his path, at the imminent peril of his life and limbs, until he arrived in Fleet Street. For nearly thirty years he had lived here in contented loneliness; then youth had to come and fill him with discontent. Pig and brute! Yet calling him hard names would not help her. Only I feel that you all want to make life too easy for me, and I am determined to fight my own battles a little longer. " "Come along," thundered Jonathan. She stared at his pleading face. I must apologize, I suppose, for speaking to you, but your appearance certainly indicated that you were in some sort of trouble, and you were becoming—pardon me—an object of comment to the passers-by. “I wonder—I wonder if we shall ever get like that. .
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