Boys, at the time of which we write, were attired like men of their own day, or certain charity-children of ours; and the stripling in question was dressed in black plush breeches, and a gray drugget waistcoat, with immoderately long pockets, both of which were evidently the cast-off clothes of some one considerably his senior. "From Jonathan Wild's confidential servant what could be expected but treachery?" With this, he proceeded to dress himself in Quilt Arnold's clothes, pulled the wig over his face and eyes so as completely to conceal his features, slouched the hat over his brows, drew the huge boots above his knees, and muffled himself up in the best way he could. “Want to see my fangs?” She asked. She wanted to kiss his feet. "Fire!—murder—thieves!—I've got one of 'em!" "Come along," cried Jack. ” His eyes were closed. I want to give myself to you. Then he relaxed back a little, and let the weapon dangle from his fingers.
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