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" "I feel it," replied Jack, in a tone of agony, "and I feel it more on my poor mother's account than my own. It was rude and disrespectful to raise her eyes to him, her mother had warned. She stepped backwards. He used to call it his fire-escape—ha! ha! I've often used the ladder for my own convenience, but I never expected to turn it to such good account. "Mine died while I was over here. “He fell over at my feet,” she continued. “The numbers are a little difficult to see in the archway. Mike seemed visibly happier at her remark. She could not be more than twenty; and though want and other suffering had done the work of time, had wasted her frame, and robbed her cheek of its bloom and roundness, they had not extinguished the lustre of her eyes, nor thinned her raven hair.
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