A man's laced hat,—whether adopted from the caprice of the moment, or habitually worn, we are unable to state,—cocked knowingly on her head, harmonized with her masculine appearance. Jeez! It was about time. ‘Dear me. And this is not France, you understand. "You hear," pursued Jonathan; "my friend desires to know if you are willing to pay your footing as a member of the ancient and respectable fraternity of debtors?" "I owe no man a farthing, and my name shall never appear in any such rascally list," replied Wood angrily.
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