" "How had he offended you?" inquired the widow. “He wants me to have dinner at his parent’s house tonight,” still looking at a series of spots on the carpeting. The mode of destruction makes no difference. "I sha'n't offer any of these to you two," he said; "but I know you won't mind me having an imitation king's peg. " Her son complied, and sat down upon the patch-work coverlet beside her. I don’t mind it. Lights glimmered in the windows of the different houses; and a lamp-lighter was running from post to post on his way to Snow Hill.
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