Many things were only words, sounds; she could not construct these words and sounds into objects; or, if she did, invariably missed the mark. On this side stood the instruments with which the latter piece of pleasantry had been effected,—namely, a bucket filled with paint and a brush: on that was erected a trophy, consisting of a watchman's rattle, a laced hat, with the crown knocked out, and its place supplied by a lantern, a campaign wig saturated with punch, a torn steen-kirk and ruffles, some halfdozen staves, and a broken sword. "Is this Misther Wudd's, my pretty miss?" demanded the rough voice of the Irish watchman. " "I thought you told me that the rascal who has so long been the terror of the town —Jack Sheppard—was in custody. It’s an instinct. He could not quite make her out; a new type. " Sheppard cordially returned the pressure; and, cautioning Thames, "not to let the ruffles drop, or they might tell a tale," began to warble the following fragment of a robber melody:— "Oh! give me a chisel, a knife, or a file, And the dubsmen shall find that I'll do it in style! Tol-de-rol!" "Vot the devil are you about, noisy?" inquired Abraham.
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