“Heavens!” she exclaimed. . I know my son's voice too well. “I SAY!” said Mr. "Shall I help you on with it, Sir?" replied the Jew, becoming suddenly respectful. And all the third act is love-sick music. These were his mistresses, Poll Maggot and Edgeworth Bess. Soon they came to treat Lucy almost as mother, pulling hard at her brown curls and laughing delightedly as they sprang back into their spiral shape. From this perturbed state he was roused by thoughts of his mother, and fancying he heard her gentle voice urging him on to fresh exertion, he started up. "You are a paragon of prudence and discretion," rejoined the woollen-draper, drawing his chair closer to hers. Don't you hear how you've made it cry?" "Throttle the kid!" rejoined Blueskin, fiercely.
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