immensely pleased. Any woman may fall a victim to a limber, manly, and courteous bow.
Presently we sat down to a supper of plum-stew and bread. Bottles had washed the blood from his face and now resembled an honest man.
"You may think it strange, sir," said Dame Bottles with some housewifely embarrassment, "that a highwayman of such distinction that he has had written of him in Bristol six ballads"
"Seven," said the highwayman.
"Seven in Bristol and in Bath two."
"Three," said the highwayman.
"And three in Bath," continued the old woman. "You may think it strange, sir, that a highwayman of such distinction that he has had written of him in Bristol seven ballads, and in Bath three, is yet obliged to sit down to a supper of plum-stew and bread."
"Where is the rest of that cheese I took on last Michaelmas?" demanded Bottles suddenly.
"Jemmie," answered his mother with reproach, "you know you gave the last of it to the crippled shepherd over on the big hill."
"So I did, mother dear," assented the highwayman, "and I regret now that I let no less than three cheeses pass me on the highway because I thought we had plenty at home."
"If you let anything pass on the road because you do not lack it at the moment, you will ultimately die of starvation, Jemmie dear," quoth the mother. "How often have I told you?"
"Aye," he answered somewhat irritably, "you also often have told me to take snuff-boxes."
"And was I at fault," she retorted, "because the
