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. He wore a long coat, beautifully flowered, and a hat with a turned up brim. . His mother used to live i' this village, just down yonder; but when her son took to bad ways, she went distracted,—and now she's i' Bedlam, I've heerd. She could not resist enduing persons she met with the noble attributes of the fictional characters. Anna stepped back at once with a little gasp of relief. . It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. "'Sdeath!" cried Hogarth, aside to the poet.
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