"And so you'll turn highwayman, will you, you young dog?" continued the carpenter, cuffing him soundly,—"rob the mails, like Jack Hall, I suppose. What I said about your brat was all stuff. He misstated her age and address; but you can’t get home on him for a thing like that. ’ ‘They? How many are there?’ ‘Oh, peste. He had a flattish, perhaps, it should be called, a flattened nose, and a brown, leathernlooking hide, that seemed as if it had not unfrequently undergone the process of tanning.
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