At least, he would always be able to take care of Ruth. ” “And I also,” Brendon echoed. He was roused from the stupor of despair into which he had sunk by the voice of Ben, who roared in his ear, "The bridge!—the bridge!" CHAPTER VII. Give me this picture. Mountains out of molehills and armies out of windmills; and you'll tire yourself in one direction and shatter yourself in the other. Smith, now, being more than half-seas over, became very uproarious, and, claiming the attention of the table, volunteered the following DRINKING SONG.
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