"Gracious Heavens! this is more wonderful than all the rest," cried the carpenter, rubbing his eyes. She hung about his chair, followed him to the door, touched his sleeve timidly, all the while striving to pronounce the words which refused to rise to her tongue. She's my mealticket. I need not counsel you to avoid those fatal courses which have placed you in such fearful jeopardy. The crowner's 'quest sat on her yesterday—and if she hadn't been proved out of her mind, she would have been buried at four lane-ends. However, if I've lost one servant, I've gained another, that's one comfort. Before there is any change, any real change, I shall be dead—dead—dead and finished—two hundred years!.
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