Side by side with the cheese (its never-failing accompaniment, in all seasons, at the carpenter's board) came a tankard of swig, and a toast. From a scout stationed at the northern entrance, whom she addressed in the jargon of the place, with which long usage had formerly rendered her familiar, she ascertained that Blueskin, accompanied by a youth, whom she knew by the description must be her son, had arrived there about three hours before, and had proceeded to the Cross Shovels. It was in fact the first embrace of motherhood she had ever known. “Why did you do it?” her aunt urged. To these a heavy wooden apparatus was attached, which could be raised or lowered at pleasure by pullies. He looked melancholy enough, it is true.
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