Jonathan threw open the street-door. "You're not out yet, you young hound," rejoined Quilt, striving ineffectually to burst open the door. "I've lost my wager. Not choosing to hazard so great a fall, Jack turned to examine the building, to see whether any more favourable point of descent presented itself, but could discover nothing but steep walls, without a single available projection. While he was meditating flight in this way, and tossing about on the straw, he chanced upon an old broken and rusty fork. “Come,” he continued, “the world after all is a very small place.
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