The Mysteries of London; or, Revelations of the British Metropolis — page 166: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

are J = ’ a ; - 164 MYSTERIEG Peg Witch had gone to the door, and put her ear to the key-hole, to listen. Open the door, Peggy, my good woman, said a voice in the street. May God pardon me, cried Peg, but *tis the voice of Gilbert Paterson. The devil take me if I don’t open the door! said the landlady, at once waking up her mind; besides which, Gilbert Paterson being as great a thief as the rest, has a right to eome in. She tock down the bars which fastened the door, and the eari’s steward entered the house. He was wuffled up in a cloak, and had his hat drawn down over his eyes. Good evening, Peg, said he, allat ones changing his coaxing tone of voice. Good evening Good Lord! Gilbert, how much stouter you have grown, and how much older—and grey, too, my man. Very well, Peg—you have a fight here to night —l will wait tili it is over. What for? I want a rascal, who bas neither fear nor bow- els of compassion. Peg. By George! Gilbert, you _can pick and choose then—‘or here are many such. Help me, if you please to fasten the door again, The heavy bars were again placed across the door. “Paterson, who appeared thoughtful and cast down, seated himself by a table. Peg re- mounted her bench. A viclent dispute had arisen as to some of the eonditions of the fight. Snail appeared beside | himself with joy. At intervals, when the noisy © . comicbooks:co n