The answer to this request was a "smack" of a very different
description, bestowed upon Sheppard's outstretched face by the little
damsel, as she ran out of the room.

"'Odd's! bodikins!" cried Jack, rubbing his cheek, "I'm in luck to-day.
However, I'd rather have a blow from the daughter than the mother. I
know who hits hardest. I tell you what, Thames," he added, flinging
himself carelessly into a chair, "I'd give my right hand,--and that's
no light offer for a carpenter's 'prentice,--if that little minx were
half as fond of me as she is of you."

"That's not likely to be the case, if you go on in this way," replied
Thames, sharply.

"Why, what the devil would you have had me do!--make myself scarce, eh?
You should have tipped me the wink."

"No more of this," rejoined Thames, "or we shall quarrel."

"Who cares if we do?" retorted Sheppard, with a look of defiance.

"Jack," said the other, sternly; "don't provoke me further, or I'll give
you a thrashing."

"Two can play at that game, my blood," replied Sheppard, rising, and
putting himself into a posture of defence.

"Take care of yourself, then," rejoined Thames, doubling his fists, and
advancing towards him: "though my right arm's stiff, I can use it, as