Yes!" she screamed, "these are his father's features! It is—it is my son!" "Mother!" cried Thames; "are you, indeed, my mother?" "I am, indeed—my own sweet boy!" she sobbed, pressing him tenderly to her breast. " "Odd's me! do you think so?" cried the host of the Trumpeter. The fashions of the day have become antiquated. Even that he was an interfering person, if he walked through that door this moment, she would fling herself at him and weep all over his chest. Some years after the date of this history, an immense ventilator was placed at the top of the Gate, with the view of purifying the prison, which, owing to its insufficient space and constantly-crowded state, was never free from that dreadful and contagious disorder, now happily unknown, the jail-fever.
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