Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps. You have the gift of words, but you haven't started to create yet. Anthony, when God Himself had found only one man strong enough for that! McClintock shook his head violently, as if to dismiss this dream he was having. " "That I will," replied Jack, "in the twinkling of a bedpost. But De Maupassant—sheer off! Stick to Dickens and Thackeray and Hugo. “Everything will follow,” she said.
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