Of all crafts,—and it was the only craft his poor father, who, to do him justice, was one of the best workmen that ever handled a saw or drove a nail, could never understand,—of all crafts, I say, to be an honest man is the master-craft. He was a small, dark, reserved man, with a large inflexiblelooking convex forehead, and his wife was very pink and high-spirited, with one of those chins that pass insensibly into a full, strong neck. ” “When?” “At tea. "Let me see the earth thrown over her," implored Jack; "and take me where you please. . I've a shrewd guess where he's taken refuge; but I'll ferret him out.
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