He was not used to not getting his way. But Jonathan was not to be deterred. Mrs. Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps. Truth to tell, more damage had been done in the enthusiastic chase carried out by the militiamen detailed to catch it.
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