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"I'll do my best, sir, and I'll work from dawn to night to find it, if it's to be found," was the answer. "Your name's Scroggie, ain't it?" Billy asked. "Please sir, don't whip her," he said, pleadingly. "I'll own up. It was me that put the sulphur in the stove.".

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"Talking of Nelson," said Sir William, "have you heard the yarn that is told of Tom Cooke, the actor? He came on in the part of old Barnwell, and when stabbed forgot the words, and would have died speechless. His murderer whispered with agitation, 'For heaven's sake, say something—anything,' on which Tom, throwing up his little three-cornered [Pg 8]hat, shouted in his thick lisp, 'Nelson for ever!' and died amidst louder applause than was ever provoked by the finest strokes of Garrick or Siddons." Lucy touched the keys. "Och, it's a brave lad ye are, Billy bye," Harry wheezed, "an' a brave liar, too. Go on wid yer nonsense, now." Sighing dolefully she arose, placed her treasured gold piece in the clock for safe keeping, and tying on her bonnet, left the house. She walked hurriedly down the path, thinking that perhaps she might be late for the opening hymn. As she was about to open the gate, a slender, sprightly old gentleman, dressed in long frock coat, stepped out from the trees bordering the road, and gravely lifting his shiny hat, bowed low, and said: "Your pardon, ma'am, I'm axin; but if ye'll permit me.".