Wood," cried David, pouring out a glass of the spirit, and offering it to the carpenter, "that'll warm the cockles of your heart. “Why? Do you think I’m a stoner?” He asked. The manager twisted his moustache. CHAPTER XXI McClintock's island was twelve miles long and eight miles wide, with the shape of an oyster. Boys, at the time of which we write, were attired like men of their own day, or certain charity-children of ours; and the stripling in question was dressed in black plush breeches, and a gray drugget waistcoat, with immoderately long pockets, both of which were evidently the cast-off clothes of some one considerably his senior.
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