"Well, Jack," said the prize-fighter, in a rough, but friendly voice, and with a cutand-thrust abrupt manner peculiar to himself; "how are you, lad, eh? Sorry to see you here. “Come,” he said, “you can’t be meaning to bury yourself. "Come Bess,—no whimpering. ’ ‘Like this?’ ‘Parfait. Their expression was so amiable, that it would have redeemed a countenance a thousand times plainer than hers. "Will he consent, to be searched?" inquired Jonathan. 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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