“Umph!” he said, and regarded his letter doubtfully before consigning it to the pillar-box. Pig and brute! Yet calling him hard names would not help her. He then scaled the northern tower, and made his way to the summit of that part of the prison which fronted Giltspur Street. . The time was the 26th of November, 1703: the place, the Mint in Southwark. "Odd's life!" cried Gay, in astonishment; "is this slight-made stripling Jack Sheppard? Why, I expected to see a man six foot high at the least, and as broad across the shoulders as our friend Figg.
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