The last Meeting between Jack Sheppard and his Mother. There is so little abandon, so little real joyousness. It was the very spot from which his poor mother had gazed after her vain attempt to rescue him at the Mint; but, though he was ignorant of this, her image was alone present to him. A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. We shall have a reg'lar squall afore we gets across. “My dear boy,” she exclaimed.
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