Wood, I command you not to stir," vociferated the carpenter's better-half; "recollect you'll be answerable to me. It is putting all my dreams out of joint. But I’d have done it without, though it weren’t my place. His curiosity, his literary instincts, had been submerged by the recurring thought of the fool he had made of himself. He looked no longer at his wife. Gay," he added, turning to the poet. ‘But for now, I’m taking you home. You seem to want this chap out of Canton. Jack's body was caught, and passed from hand to hand over a thousand heads, till it was far from the fatal tree. I'll tote it myself. I will be up with my wife and daughter after lunch.
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