The above description of —the great Figg, by the prize-fighting swains Sole monarch acknowledged of Mary'bone plains— may sound somewhat tame by the side of the glowing account given of him by his gallant biographer, who asserts that "there was a majesty shone in his countenance, and blazed in his actions, beyond all I ever saw;" but it may, possibly, convey a more accurate notion of his personal appearance. Wild himself if I met him," retorted Jack. Her teeth were chattering so hard that she had to clench them for fear of biting off her own tongue. "I'd lay down my life for yours. " "For mercy's sake go up stairs," implored Sheppard. “I am lonely.
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