"My portrait!" echoed Jack. He was only a younger son, and you know what trouble we had. " "Very right, my love," said Wood, "very sensibly remarked. "Before either of you go, you will ask my permission," said Jonathan, coolly. Conceiving himself called upon, as the intimate friend of the deceased, to pay this last tribute of respect to her memory, he appeared as one of the chief mourners. Miss Mary and me, and Martha too sometimes. "I'm afraid, Jack, you'll come to the gallows," observed the smith; "buth if you do, I'll go to Tyburn to see you. " "Dear mother, don't say so," returned Winifred.
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