Here was a poor half-naked creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne. "Go to the pump, Nab," he said, when this was done, "and fill a pail with water. " "As you please," replied Jonathan, sternly. I'm neither an infidel nor an agnostic, so I'll content myself by saying that the hand of God is in this somewhere. " "Fill your glasses, gentlemen," observed Ireton, "and I'll tell you a droll thing Jack said this morning.
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