have a gallows end on't," replied Galatea.

"Go, Cupid, go and kiss Galatea, and make your peace.

`Oh, leave a kiss within the cup,
And I'll not ask for wine.'

And 't is no use asking for wine, or for gin either,--not a drop in the
noggin!"

All this while Gabriel, disdaining the recommendations held forth to him,
was employed in brushing his jacket with a very mangy-looking brush; and
when he had completed that operation he approached his uncle, and coolly
thrust his hands into that gentleman's waistcoat-pockets.

"Uncle, what have you done with those seven shillings? I am going out to
spend the day."

"If you give them to him, Tom, I'll scratch your eyes out," cried the
model; "and then we'll see how you'll sing. Whip him, I say, whip him!"

But, strange to say, this liberty of the boy quite reopened the heart of
his uncle,--it was a pleasure to him, who put his hands so habitually
into other people's pockets, to be invested with the novel grandeur of
the man sponged upon. "That's right, Cupid, son of Cytherea; all's
common property amongst friends. Seven shillings, I have 'em not. 'They
now are five who once were seven;' but such as they are, we'll share.

'Let old Timotheus yield the prize,
Or both divide the crown.'"