"Have a moment's patience, Sir Rowland," returned Wild; "and you shall hear. She sings better perhaps. "So, stir your stumps, Saint Giles; and, if you mean to lock us up, use despatch. She trembled; but she did not know why. "How very fortunate it is," he observed, "that I happened to call upon Mr. “It may not be just and so forth, but, after all, it is how things are. Besides, didn't I tell you that I giv' him as good as he brought—and better! I jist touched him with my 'Evenin' Star,' as I call this shillelah," said the watchman, flourishing an immense bludgeon, the knob of which appeared to be loaded with lead, "and, by Saint Patrick! down he cum'd like a bullock.
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