ever.' Instantly he was assailed by the juvenile portion of the
throng, was pelted with anything that came to an, mocked
mercilessly, buffeted from behind. For a while he persisted in his
psalmody, but at length, without warning, he rushed upon his
tormentors, and with angry shrieks endeavoured to take revenge. The
uproar continued till a policeman came and cleared the way. Then
Jack went off again, singing, 'All ye works of the Lord.' With his
voice blended that of the costermonger, 'Penny a bundill!'

Up in the Hewetts' back-room lay Jane Snowdon, now seemingly asleep,
now delirious. When she talked, a name was constantly upon her lips;
she kept calling for 'Mr. Kirkwood.' Amy was at school; Annie and
Tom frequently went into the room and gazed curiously at the sick
girl. Mrs. Hewett felt so ill to-day that she could only lie on the
bed and try to silence her baby's crying.

The house-door was left wide open between the departure and return
of the mourners; a superstition of the people demands this. The
Peckovers brought back with them some half a dozen relatives and
friends, invited to a late dinner. The meal had been in preparation
at an eating-house close by, and was now speedily made ready in the
parlour. A liberal supply of various ales was furnished by the
agency of a pot-boy (Jane's absence being much felt), and in the
course of half an hour or so the company were sufficiently restored
to address themselves anew to the bottles and decanters. Mrs. Gully
was now permitted to obey her instincts; the natural result could be
attributed to overstrung feelings.

Just when the mourners had grown noisily hilarious, testifying
thereby to the respectability with which things were being conducted