Supper was quickly served; the oldest bottle of wine was brought from the cellar; the strongest barrel of ale was tapped; but not one of the party could eat or drink—their hearts were too full. Another door was next opened, and, preceded by the ordinary, with the sacred volume in his hand, the prisoner entered the room. The youth with the hair brushed back and the spectacled Scotchman joined in the fray for and against the women’s vote. ” “Why in Heaven’s name should I forget?” he cried. "Oh! Jack! Jack!—you little know what a price I've paid for you!" "Well, I'm glad those women are gone," remarked Shotbolt. Take care of the old clothesman, and leave the rest to me.
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