The last Meeting between Jack Sheppard and his Mother. Look at the poor victim at your feet. I worshipped her and subdued myself. ‘Exactement. "Halloa!" cried Jack, looking round, and trying to fix his inebriate gaze upon the speaker,—"who's that?" "Your mother," replied Mrs. “Forgive me,” he said. A siphon and a whisky bottle stood before him. How Jack Sheppard attended his Mother's Funeral 435 XXVII. A stout female stood in the aperture, an oil lamp in her hand. " She paused. . I applaud your prudence: it is, however, needless.
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