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"You're nearly asleep," said the driver; "but I'll hould a testher that a tight crapper Would soon brighten your eye. Come, come," he added, as she yawned again, "shut your pittaty trap, and go to the young lady in the chaise."
And ultimately the ten vehicles halted in Crapper Street, to the joy of the simple inhabitants. Denry emerged and wandered innocently towards the offices of his paper, which were close by. It was getting late. The first yelling of the imprisoned Daily boys was just beginning to rise on the autumn air. Suddenly Denry was accosted by a young man. "Hello, Machin!" cried the young man.
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