abstract：`Idon'tknow,'saidtheman.`Spies!Yaha!Tst!Spies!'Heaskedanotherman.`Whoisit?'`Idon'tknow,'returnedthem

`I don't know,' said the man. `Spies! Yaha! Tst! Spies!'

He asked another man. `Who is it?'

`I don't know,' returned the man, clapping his hands to his mouth nevertheless, and vociferating in a surprising heat and with the greatest ardour, `Spies! Yaha! Tst, tst! Spi-ies!'

At length, a person better informed on the merits of the case, tumbled against him, and from this person he learned that the funeral was the funeral of One Roger Cly.

`Was He a spy?' asked Mr. Cruncher.

`Old Bailey spy,' returned his informant. `Yaha Tst! Yah! Old Bailey Spi-i-ies!'

`Why, to be sure!' exclaimed Jerry, recalling the Trial at which he had assisted. `I've seen him. Dead, is he?'

`Dead as mutton,' returned the other, `and can't be too dead. Have `em out, there Spies! Pull `em out, there! Spies!'