“I’ve been thinking—all the afternoon. Jack had thus been six hours in accomplishing his arduous task. But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. Having drunk as much as he thought prudent, and thanked his unknown friend for his attention, Jack again lay down on the straw, and indulged himself with another nap, intending to get up as soon as it was perfectly dark. No— no, it must never be. "There's my answer!" rejoined Wild, hurling the bludgeon at him, with such fatal effect, that striking him on the head it brought him instantly to the ground. .
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