The old lady clearly read his state of mind, for the apparently irrepressible dimple peeped out. In the midst of them there was a cart with a man in it—and that man was Jack—my son Jack—they were going to hang him. ‘Thanks to him, Hilary and I nearly had our heads blown off. Standing on tiptoe, on a joint-stool, placed upon the bench, with his back to the door, and a clasp-knife in his hand, this youngster, instead of executing his appointed task, was occupied in carving his name upon a beam, overhead. The ceiling had, in many places, given way; the laths had been removed; and, where any plaster remained, it was either mapped and blistered with damps, or festooned with dusty cobwebs. I overheard what Mr. Diane suggested to him that he retire early, and he did so agreeably, halfknowing it to be an order.
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