Lucy sat in back of Jane Lenihan, who never spoke to her. While this took place, while Quilt thundered at the inner door, and Jack drew back the bolts of the outer, a deep, manly voice was heard chanting—as if in contempt of the general uproar—the following strain:— With pipe and punch upon the board, And smiling nymphs around us; No tavern could more mirth afford Than old Saint Giles's round-house! The round-house! the round-house! The jolly—jolly round-house! "The jolly, jolly round-house!" chorussed Sheppard, as the last bar yielded to his efforts. I'll tote it myself. ‘You kissed me that you might make me find it for you instead?’ ‘I had no such intention. Mind, when we were all growed up, it were different.
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