strated the Jew, "that the women can't be got over?"
"Not a bit of it," replied Sikes.
"Not by flash Toby Crackit?" said the Jew incredulously. "Think what women are, Bill."
"No; not even by flash Toby Crackit," replied Sikes. "He says he's worn sham whiskers and a canary waistcoat the whole blessed time he's been loitering down there, and it's all of no use."
"He should have tried mustachios and a pair of military trousers, my dear," said the Jew, after a few moments' reflection.
"So he did," rejoined Sikes, "and they warn't of no more use than the other plant."
The Jew looked very blank at this information, and, arter ruminating for some minutes with his chin sunk on his breast, raised his head, and said with a deep sigh that, if flash Toby Crackit reported aright, he feared the game was up.
"And yet," said the old man, dropping his
