" Jack approached her. '—'No fear o' that,' thought I. Give me your hand. " So Ruth heard about the poets; she became tolerably familiar with the exploits of that engaging ruffian Cellini; she heard of the pathetic deafness of Beethoven; she was thrilled, saddened, exhilarated; and on the evening of the twelfth day she made bold to enter the talk. D. “For nothing, do you call it?” he declared. The Cantonese, excepting in the shops where he expects profit, always resents the intrusion of the fan-quei—foreign devil. Something seemed to dredge up from the recesses of her memory and she brightened. Jack, who had been lingering near the group, now walked on. "Go to the pump, Nab," he said, when this was done, "and fill a pail with water.
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