You was a-jawin', rather." I could hardly help laughing at his description, though its details reminded me sadly of my old follies and their consequences.
The most extraordinary raving of all, however, was that which referred to my stopping the little girl's runaway pony at Packworth years ago--an incident I don't believe I had ever once thought of since.
It was curious, too, that, now it was called to memory, I thought of the adventure a good deal, and wished I knew what had become of the owner of that restive little pony.

I determined to tell Jack about it when he came home.
"What do you think, Jack ?" I said, as he was tucking me up for the night.

"Billy has been telling me what I was talking about in my fever, and says one thing I discoursed about was a little girl who was being run away with by a pony." "Yes," said Jack, laughing; "I heard that.

It was quite a new light for you, old man, to be dreaming of that sort of romantic thing." "But it really happened once," I said.
"No! where?
I thought the Henniker and Mrs Nash were the only lady friends you ever had?
Where was it ?" "At Packworth, of all places," I said.

"It was that day I went over to try and find you out--just before we came up to London, you know.