” “And mine,” murmured his companion, with the smile still lingering upon his lips. The four men fell upon him, holding his arms and legs, while Caliban forced back his head. The two hostlers, however, kept close at his heels; and Jack, whose strength began to flag, feared he could not hold much longer. While this took place, while Quilt thundered at the inner door, and Jack drew back the bolts of the outer, a deep, manly voice was heard chanting—as if in contempt of the general uproar—the following strain:— With pipe and punch upon the board, And smiling nymphs around us; No tavern could more mirth afford Than old Saint Giles's round-house! The round-house! the round-house! The jolly—jolly round-house! "The jolly, jolly round-house!" chorussed Sheppard, as the last bar yielded to his efforts.
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