When the turnkey, next morning, stepp'd into his room, The sight of the hole in the wall struck him dumb; The sheriff's black bracelets lay strewn on the ground, But the lad that had worn 'em could nowhere be found. He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. "I should be sorry to persuade him to do anything his calmer judgment might disapprove. Ah Cum had no business taking him into the city last night. " "If professions of repentance constitute a Magdalene, Mrs.
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