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"Remember!" cried Quilt, as he forced the captive along. Marvel was almost dislodged from his seat on the coffin by a dead dog, which was hurled against him, and struck him in the face. "Mercy on us!" cried he, as a thrill of apprehension ran through his frame. My mother died the day I was born; that’s what they tell me. I wanted something alive. " "It may be; but if it shortens the distance and lightens the journey, I care not," retorted the widow, who seemed by this reproach to be roused into sudden eloquence.
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