He pulled away. "Och! he's a broth of a boy!" "Why, I thought he'd broken your head, Terry?" "Phooh! that's nothing? A piece o' plaster'll set all to rights; and Terry O'Flaherty's not the boy to care for the stroke of a supple-jack. " So saying, he scrambled over the rubbish, and got into the chimney. “Please have a seat. Sheppard," cried the carpenter's wife bitterly; "and, I repeat, Bedlam's too good for her. " Jack started to his feet; but before he could defend himself, his right arm was grasped by the Jew who had silently approached him.
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