the night--in which particulars it is not improbable that he had compeers in Fleet Street and the City of London, that fine morning.
'Father,' said Young Jerry, as they walked along: taking care to keep at arm's length and to have the stool well between them: 'what's a Resurrection-Man?'
Mr. Cruncher came to a stop on the pavement before he answered, 'How should I know?'
'I thought you knowed everything, father,' said the artless boy.
'Hem! Well,' returned Mr. Cruncher, going on again, and lifting off his hat to give his spikes free play, 'he 's a tradesman.'
'What 's his goods, father?' asked the brisk Young Jerry.
'His goods,' said Mr. Cruncher, after turning it over in his mind, 'is a branch of Scientific goods.'
'Persons' bodies, ain't it, father?' asked the lively boy.
'I believe it is something of that sort,' said Mr. Cruncher.
'Oh, father, I should so like to be a Resurrection-Man when I'm quite growed up!'
Mr. Cruncher was soothed, but shook his head in a dubious and moral way. 'It depends upon how you dewelop your talents. Be careful to dewelop your talents, and never to say no more than you can help to nobdy, and there 's no telling at the present time what you may not come to be fit for.' As Young Jerry, thus encouraged, went on a few yards in advance, to plant the stool in the shadow of the Bar, Mr. Cruncher added to himself: ' Jerry, you honest tradesman, there 's hopes wot that boy will yet be a blessing to you, and a recompense to you for his mother!'
THERE had been earlier drinking than usual in the wine-shop of Monsieur Defarge. As early as six o'clock in the morning, sallow faces peeping through its barred windows had descried other