“You know—,” said Mr. If only you knew what this means to me!" "We do, lad," replied McClintock, gravely. Oh, I grew fond of you as the years went by. "But to drag this innocent child into the muck! With her head full of book nonsense—love stories and fairy stories! Have you any idea of the tragedy she is bound to stumble upon some day? I don't care about you. ” “Very sad—very sad indeed,” he remarked uneasily. “Perhaps,” she said, “it is the London climate. " "Perhaps that was it. She had been built for canvas and oil-lamps, and this new thingumajig that kept her nose snoring at eight knots when normally she was able to boil along at ten, and these unblinking things they called lamps (that neither smoked nor smelled), irked and threatened to ruin her temper. “It is not that. " Blueskin, meanwhile, having drained and replenished his glass, commenced chaunting a snatch of a ballad:— Once on a time, as I've heard tell.
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