” He said. ‘It’s a pretty name. I say, I'll take the yarn over and read it to McClintock. The Ragged Edge. While he was thus standing, the flames of his house, which made the whole street as light as day, and ruddily illumined the faces of the mob below, betrayed him to them, and he was speedily driven from his position by a shower of stones and other missiles. In the midst of them there was a cart with a man in it—and that man was Jack—my son Jack—they were going to hang him. . Nor was this impression removed as he stole a glance at Mrs.
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