"Hark 'ee, Ben," said the old sailor, knocking the ashes from his pipe upon the hob; "you may try, but dash my timbers if you'll ever cross the Thames to-night. ‘Sapristi,’ he shouted angrily. " "Aye," said McClintock, in a tone so peculiar that it sent Spurlock's glance to his plate. Hey. If they had any idea the concerts he had seen, they would have known the quality of her playing. The birds were singing blithely amid the trees,—the lowing of the cows resounded from the yard,—a delicious perfume from the garden was wafted through the open window,—at a distance, the church-bells of Willesden were heard tolling for evening service. He was heartily thankful for it.
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