"Aha!" exclaimed Jack, with a roguish wink, "I've caught you,—have I?" The carpenter's daughter was fair and free— Fair, and fickle, and false, was she! She slighted the journeyman, (meaning me!) And smiled on a gallant of high degree. Wood's cries: but, regardless of this, he darted along a passage, gained the shop, and passed through an open door into the street. Getting back the ice was rather a serious affair. He had been the one to dress her in the finest silks and brocades, and here she was, displayed for the world to see in 248 drugstore makeup and the uniform of an old schoolteacher. "What motive have you for concealment?" he demanded. . He—he has rather a poor opinion of his contemporaries. She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. And for many years, that was the way it was.
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