“Don’t you think I ought to?” she asked, very submissively. Boys, at the time of which we write, were attired like men of their own day, or certain charity-children of ours; and the stripling in question was dressed in black plush breeches, and a gray drugget waistcoat, with immoderately long pockets, both of which were evidently the cast-off clothes of some one considerably his senior. What do you mean by it, eh?’ ‘But I did not send it to you,’ Melusine rejoined instantly. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. Wood will be intercepted.
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