"Well, lad, supposing you read what the editor has to say?" was McClintock's suggestion, when the frolic was over. “I will take my chance. ” “It’s rather jolly of you,” said Ann Veronica. The young lady—if she had come in here at all—had vanished. My father died a year ago, by the way. Of all crafts,—and it was the only craft his poor father, who, to do him justice, was one of the best workmen that ever handled a saw or drove a nail, could never understand,—of all crafts, I say, to be an honest man is the master-craft.
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