"So much the worse," replied Jonathan, rising and taking a turn, as if uncertain what to do. A diversion was created by the violent struggles of the little old lady. "Hark 'ee, Ben," said the old sailor, knocking the ashes from his pipe upon the hob; "you may try, but dash my timbers if you'll ever cross the Thames to-night. I’ve a dread of love dropping its petals, becoming mean and ugly. Jackson!" "So he would," replied the latter: "so he would. Take care of yourselves, gentlemen, and your governor will take care of you. I was to blame to carry the matter so far.
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