The wish was vain: and, endeavouring to banish every earthly thought, he addressed himself deeply and sincerely to prayer. " "Do you happen to know Jonathan Wild, master?" inquired Jack, altering his tone, and assuming a more respectful demeanour. "Good gracious! so I do," exclaimed his amiable consort. Wood the carpenter. He yielded his place and struck instead with his tongue. —Jonathan Wild: August 31st, 1724. Of this boy she had only caught a glimpse;—but that glimpse was sufficient to satisfy her it was her son,—and, if she could have questioned her own instinctive love, she could not question her antipathy, when she beheld, partly concealed by a pillar immediately in the rear of the woollen-draper, the dark figure and truculent features of Jonathan Wild.
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