"Or the street," returned Jack: "mind my words, the prison's not built that can keep me. A new inexplicable madness that urged him to shrill ironically the story of his coat—to take it off and fling it at the feet of any stranger who chanced to be nigh. "And now, widow," continued the ruffian, setting down the candle, and applying his lips to the bottle neck as he flung his heavy frame upon a bench, "I've a piece o' good news for you. I sometimes laid away my father's clothes in his trunk. They poisoned the system with lead and exploded half the time on the other side.
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