Wood dandled his little charge to and fro, after the most approved nursery fashion, essaying at the same time the soothing influence of an infantine melody proper to the occasion; but, failing in his design, he soon lost all patience, and being, as we have before hinted, rather irritable, though extremely well-meaning, he lifted the unhappy bantling in the air, and shook him with so much good will, that he had well-nigh silenced him most effectually. Across that world was written in letters of light, “Endowment of Motherhood. Will I meet you there?’ ‘Yes, yes, I shall await you. "A thousand pounds," he observed, gloomily, "is a heavy price to pay for doubtful secrecy, when certain silence might be so cheaply procured. ” “I am going to pack my bag,” Anna answered. The only mercy you can show me is to kill me.
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