Smith, now, being more than half-seas over, became very uproarious, and, claiming the attention of the table, volunteered the following DRINKING SONG. ‘I knew I should find you still here. She was wholly unable to conceal her knowledge of his presence. Left to himself, he took a survey of the room, and his heart leaped as he beheld over the, chimney-piece, a portrait of himself. Had it not been for the Plague, she might have had her own babies. And she’s pluck to the backbone. There lay upon this stand a book bound in limp black leather—the Holy Bible. “Now I should like to know,” she said, looking at him with a quiet smile, “what you are doing here? It is not a particularly inspiring neighbourhood for walking about by yourself.
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