“I saw his face in a mirror. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. —I do not congratulate you on your success. "My horse has had a fall," replied Jack, assuming to perfection—for he was a capital mimic,—the tones of Quilt Arnold. Nevertheless Sydney, clumsily, but earnestly, had something to say about it. He had almost forced himself upon her one night after a particularly bloody raid of a thatched cottage. Shari was to be protected, to be dissuaded from driving in cars with older boys at night, to be steered away from dope and beer and certain friends who had no plans to work or to go to college.
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