She liked the high, easy swing of the thing over its big wheels, the quick clatter-patter of the horse, the passage of the teeming streets. ” John replied. "Mother! dear mother!" cried Jack, folding her to his breast. So perfect was the illusion, that he could almost fancy he heard the solemn voice of the ordinary warning him that his race was nearly run, and imploring him to prepare for eternity. Even that he was an interfering person, if he walked through that door this moment, she would fling herself at him and weep all over his chest. Her cogitations were dissipated by a knock on the door.
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