he says is the very choicest.  Broadman has no objection to encouraging this evidence of good feeling, which he will take advantage of to introduce the dialogue that follows.  “Good sir,” says he, “you will pardon what I am about to say, for indeed I feel the weakness of my position when addressing you, fortune having made a wide distinction between us; but judge me not because I am coarse of flesh, nor have polished manners, for I have a heart that feels for the unfortunate.”  Here Blowers interrupted the keeper by saying he would hear no chicken-hearted interpositions.  “Remember, keeper,” he added, “you must not presume on the small familiarity I have condescended to admit in drinking with you.  I hold no controversies with prison-keepers (again he gulps his brandy) or their subs; being a servant of the state, I order you to give that wench the extent of the law.  She shall disclose the secret of her escape, or I’ll have her life; I’m a man what won’t stand no nonsense, I am!” The keeper, rejoining, hopes he will pardon the seeming presumption; but, forsooth, notwithstanding necessity has driven him to seek a livelihood in his repulsive occupation, there is a duty of the heart he cannot betray, though the bread of his maintenance be taken from him.  Blowers again assumes his dignity, rises from his seat, scowls significantly at the keeper, and says he will go put through the business with his own hands.  “Good friend,” says Broadman, arresting Blowers’ progress, “by the state’s ruling you are my patron; nevertheless, within these walls I am master, and whatever you may bring here for punishment shall have the benefit of my discretion.  I loathe the law that forces me to, in such cases, overrule the admo-nitions of my heart.  I, sir, am low of this world,—­good! but, in regret do I say it, I have by a slave mother two fair daughters, who in the very core of my heart I love; nor would I, imitating the baser examples of our aristocracy, sell them hapless outcasts for life.”  Here Blowers again interrupted by allowing his passion to manifest itself in a few very fashionable oaths; to which he added, that he (pacing the room several times) would no longer give ear to such nonsense from a man of Broadman’s position,—­which was neither socially nor politically grand.  “No doubt, good sir, my humble and somewhat repulsive calling does not meet your distinguished consideration; but I am, nevertheless, a man.  And what I was about to say-I hope you will grant me a hearing-was, that having these two daughters-poverty only prevents my purchasing them-has made me sensible of these slaves having delicate textures.  The unhappy possession of these daughters has caused me to reflect-to study constitutions, and their capacity to endure punishments.  The woman it has pleased you to bring here for chastisement, I take it, is not coarse of flesh; but is one of those unfortunates whom kindness might reform, while the lash never fails to destroy.  Why, then, not consider her in the