"Don't leave him, if you're at all fearful, my dear," replied Wood,
receiving the little burthen with a laugh. "Poor thing!" muttered he, as
the widow departed on her errand, "she's seen better days and better
circumstances than she'll ever see again, I'm sure. Strange, I could
never learn her history. Tom Sheppard was always a close file, and would
never tell whom he married. Of this I'm certain, however, she was much
too good for him, and was never meant to be a journeyman carpenter's
wife, still less what is she now. Her heart's in the right place, at all
events; and, since that's the case, the rest may perhaps come
round,--that is, if she gets through her present illness. A dry cough's
the trumpeter of death. If that's true, she's not long for this world.
As to this little fellow, in spite of the Dutchman, who, in my opinion,
is more of a Jacobite than a conjurer, and more of a knave than either,
he shall never mount a horse foaled by an acorn, if I can help it."

The course of the carpenter's meditations was here interrupted by a loud
note of lamentation from the child, who, disturbed by the transfer, and
not receiving the gentle solace to which he was ordinarily accustomed,
raised his voice to the utmost, and exerted his feeble strength to
escape. For a few moments Mr. Wood dandled his little charge to and fro,
after the most approved nursery fashion, essaying at the same time the
soothing influence of an infantine melody proper to the occasion; but,
failing in his design, he soon lost all patience, and being, as we have
before hinted, rather irritable, though extremely well-meaning, he
lifted the unhappy bantling in the air, and shook him with so much good
will, that he had well-nigh silenced him most effectually. A brief calm
succeeded. But with returning breath came returning vociferations; and
the carpenter, with a faint hope of lessening the clamour by change of
scene, took up his lantern, opened the door, and walked out.