“MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation. In spite of his shrieks, the miserable Jew was then dragged into the wellhole, and the rope being tied round his neck, he was launched from the bridge. " "Ah. He has been a father to me and my child. Her name, he said, was as pretty as its wearer. ” He meditated. It would surely be only common politeness to drop her a hint—a fellow countrywoman too. "No, lad," said McClintock, his tone becoming kindly.
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