And, mind, it's for his sister, Lady Trafford. 1. A stout female stood in the aperture, an oil lamp in her hand. You tonic my liver and you tonic my soul. Giles! "Devil seize the woman!" growled the singer, as he brought his ditty to a close; "will nothing tempt her out? Widow Sheppard, I say," he added, rising, "don't be afraid. Of this I'm certain, however, she was much too good for him, and was never meant to be a journeyman carpenter's wife, still less what is she now. "Your master wants a few table-spoons, child," said Mrs.
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