" Sheppard cordially returned the pressure; and, cautioning Thames, "not to let the ruffles drop, or they might tell a tale," began to warble the following fragment of a robber melody:— "Oh! give me a chisel, a knife, or a file, And the dubsmen shall find that I'll do it in style! Tol-de-rol!" "Vot the devil are you about, noisy?" inquired Abraham. A sob was strangled in her throat. All he will say is that she said so—as if anyone could believe a word the girl said. " "A promise to my mother?" said Winifred, unsuspiciously. ” She said. He filled his pipe slowly. The locket contained the face of her mother—all the family album she had. One comes at last to the step from dreams to reality.
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