“I don’t know. " Amazed at the boy's assurance, Wood left off boxing his ears for a moment, and, looking at him steadfastly, said in a grave tone, "Jack, Jack, you'll come to be hanged!" "Better be hanged than hen-pecked," retorted the lad with a malicious grin. This incredible scene robbed him of the sense of locomotion. “I think we have,” he answered, gravely, and took her in his arms, and smoothed her hair from her forehead, and very tenderly kissed her lips. "Well, lad, supposing you read what the editor has to say?" was McClintock's suggestion, when the frolic was over. Let the law put its hand on his shoulder—if it could! But at present he was at liberty, and he purposed to remain in that state. Where is Father Spencer? I must have absolution.
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