" "My wealth," replied Mrs. ” Ann Veronica started from her reverie, sat up in her chair, became attentive. With his chisel so fine, tra la! "There!" cried the boy, leaping from the stool, and drawing back a few paces on the bench to examine his performance,—"that'll do. You’re a little late, you must remember, and we are punctual people here. " "A child!" thought Wood; it must be the fugitive Darrell. My birth certificate was destroyed when the county building it was housed in burned down. It was a pity he didn't break his neck, for he was hanged within the year. My thanks, by the by. Spurlock (himself verging upon the hysterical) welcomed the diversion.
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