and, forgetting his own tears, says, in a whisper, dont cry, annette they ll let us go and see mother, and mother will be so kind to us. It does seem a pity to sell ye, young uns yer such nice uns,have so much interestin in yer little skins. Interrupts the gaoler, suddenly. The man of keys could unfold a strange history of misery, suffering, and death, if fear of popular opinion, illustrated in popular liberty, did not seal his lips. He admits the present to be