joe friend

chaff to

chaff to the winds, a dozen voices chime in. Indeed. Lady swiggs ejaculates, giving her head a toss, in token of her satisfaction, not a shilling, except to the miserable wretch who showed me the way out. And he seemed harmless enough. I never met a more melancholy object, never. Brother spyke raises his eyes imploringly, and says he harbors no illwill against these vile people, but melancholy is an art with themthey make it a study. They affect it while picking ones pocket. The body now resolves itself into working order. Brother spyke offers up a prayer. He thanks kind providence for the happy escape of sister swiggsthis generous woman whose kindness of heart has brought her herefrom among the hardened wretches who inhabit that