“It’s jolly of you to come,” said Ramage. By now the horses would be rested and he might go as swiftly back again. He was even a little jealous of Sebastian. “They have all been trying to turn my head. On this side stood the instruments with which the latter piece of pleasantry had been effected,—namely, a bucket filled with paint and a brush: on that was erected a trophy, consisting of a watchman's rattle, a laced hat, with the crown knocked out, and its place supplied by a lantern, a campaign wig saturated with punch, a torn steen-kirk and ruffles, some halfdozen staves, and a broken sword. I can't bear it. “There, there, now.
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