"For me—his master, Mr. No doubt there’s some little mistake. His face was that of a quick, intelligent-looking boy, with fine hazel eyes, and a clear olive complexion. Pitt?" "There is no mistake, Sir," rejoined the prisoner, drawing himself up, "I am Jack Sheppard. " With your foodle doo! "Thames Darrell has my heart alone, A noble youth, e'en you must own; And, if from him my love could stir, Jack Sheppard I should much prefer!" With his foodle doo! "Do you refuse my toast?" cried Jack, impatiently.
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