Satisfied, as he thought, that he had nothing to apprehend, the boy resumed his task, chanting, as he plied his knife with redoubled assiduity, the following—not inappropriate strains:— THE NEWGATE STONE. "Devil!" cried the widow, catching his arm, and gazing with frantic eagerness in his face, "how many years will you give my son before you execute your terrible threat?" "NINE!" answered Jonathan sternly. I want her to get forward, to set her among people who'll understand what to do with her. "He has passed this way," cried Jonathan, exultingly; "I have him safe enough. She was clear there were no other minds like them in all the world. " "I'm not afraid, mother," said the little girl, smelling at the bouquet.
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