Saint Giles's Round-house XIII. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. Empty, silly, coarse brutes. I suppose most of our daughters would marry organ-grinders if they had a chance—at that age. "Comfort yourself, my charmer," said Mr. “There were some Hampshire Pellissiers.
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