Now Owen Wood had one fair child, Unlike her mother, meek and mild; Her love the draper strove to gain, But she repaid him with disdain. " "It is false," cried Mrs. A man's laced hat,—whether adopted from the caprice of the moment, or habitually worn, we are unable to state,—cocked knowingly on her head, harmonized with her masculine appearance. Heedless, however, of the consequences, he pursued his task. I'm a slave to my word. To her chagrin, he ignored her, and turned a venomous eye on his betrothed.
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