Woman's love of silk is not set by fashion; it is bred in the bone; and somewhere, somehow, a woman will have her bit of silk. Wanting his coat, when he must have known that the pockets were empty! But the effort to talk had cost him something. A doubt as to your dinner to-morrow would make you miserable to-night. “At a boarding-house?” he gasped. " Amazed at the boy's assurance, Wood left off boxing his ears for a moment, and, looking at him steadfastly, said in a grave tone, "Jack, Jack, you'll come to be hanged!" "Better be hanged than hen-pecked," retorted the lad with a malicious grin.
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