"One-and-twenty, ah!" repeated Gay. . Sheppard, bitterly. “I have spoken too many truths to-night. The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice. You said that it would bring trouble. Standing on tiptoe, on a joint-stool, placed upon the bench, with his back to the door, and a clasp-knife in his hand, this youngster, instead of executing his appointed task, was occupied in carving his name upon a beam, overhead. I didn't think.
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