Jack was almost afraid of speaking; but at length he summoned courage to call out "Mother!" "Who's there?" asked a faint voice from the bed. "It is open," replied the lady, rushing towards it, and springing through the outlet. Niece and aunt regarded each other for a moment over their pockethandkerchiefs with watery but antagonistic eyes, each far too profoundly moved to see the absurdity of the position. I've got to know why. But how long would she last, withering away to a desiccated pile of skin and bone? Round and round she would go. Amidship there was also canvas, and like that over the wheel, drab and dirty. Wearied at length with thinking on the past, and terrified by the prospect of the future, he threw himself on the straw with which the cage was littered, and endeavoured to compose himself to slumber.
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