Things were thrown here and there, to be taken up, or again cast aside, as the whim arose; while the broken-backed chairs and crazy table bore the marks of many a conflict. " "Ay, marry," replied Wood, with a look that seemed to say that he did not think it required any surprising skill in the art of divination to predict the doom of the individual in question; but whatever opinion he might entertain, he contented himself with inquiring into the grounds of the conjuror's evil augury respecting the infant. No, this was not reasonable. He continued alternately to be tossed in the air, or rolled in the kennel until he was borne out of sight. "How go you like your quarters, sauce-box?" asked Sharples, in a jeering tone.
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