Then he stood up and hailed a fiacre. "Come to my arms, Thames! Oh! dear! Oh! dear!" To repeat the questions and congratulations which now ensued, or describe the extravagant joy of the carpenter, who, after he had hugged his adopted son to his breast with such warmth as almost to squeeze the breath from his body, capered around the room, threw his wig into the empty fire-grate, and committed various other fantastic actions, in order to get rid of his superfluous satisfaction—to describe the scarcely less extravagant raptures of his spouse, or the more subdued, but not less heartfelt delight of Winifred, would be a needless task, as it must occur to every one's imagination. “I have noticed,” he said, “that you seem to delight in taking a topsy-turvy view of life. I love everything to-day, and all of you, but I love this, this—this innocence upon us most of all. Sheppard is, without your information, Sir. “But, forgive me, you are tired.
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