‘It is not your affair. He came to the door and as he opened it a crack, she pushed herself inside urgently. Besides, didn't I tell you that I giv' him as good as he brought—and better! I jist touched him with my 'Evenin' Star,' as I call this shillelah," said the watchman, flourishing an immense bludgeon, the knob of which appeared to be loaded with lead, "and, by Saint Patrick! down he cum'd like a bullock. " And he struck up the following ballad:— SAINT GILES'S BOWL. She cursed herself for a fool. C below. "What's that to you?" retorted Jack, surlily.
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