In the midst of them there was a cart with a man in it—and that man was Jack—my son Jack—they were going to hang him. " "Well said, Jack," cried Figg. ” “Personally,” he went on, “I must confess to a great disappointment. “I am going,” he said, “to be impertinent. I may want you. Those grand designs in the dome of St. . "And his lordship, furthermore, requests me to state," proceeded Sharples, in a hoarse tone, "that he'll be responsible for the doctors' bill of all such gem'men as have received broken pates, or been otherwise damaged in the fray—ough! ough!" "Hurrah!" shouted the mob.
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