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pressed with a horse and hounds, a fox's head, or the great Plague of London, dwelling particularly some other such emblem of the chase, would be on that part where the men came round in the night to declare yourself a “slow coach” at the very with a cart and a bell, crying, “Bring out your dead! least. Knee-breeches were just going out of bring out your dead !" just like our own dustmen, fashion when I was a little boy, and “calf-cling- only without fantails and baskets, and “loading ers” (that is, trousers made to fit the leg as tight up a precious deal more frequent,” one of them as a worsted stocking,) were “coming in.” Even explained. They had some beer in a gallon can, the hair and whiskers of the costermonger, like but, not to make a display of it, it was stood bethat of more civilised folk, used to be governed hind the coal-box in the corner; and as their turns by fashion. Sometimes “jug-loops,” (the hair came round, they went and stood with their backs brought straight on to the temples, and turned there, and took a swig, and then came back again under,) would be the rage; another season," ter- looking more solemn than before. rier-crop" would be the style. There were three I was engaged on a neighbouring door-step with fashions for whiskers when I was a child, and my companions, when a woman who had been they were variously known as “blue-cheek,” sent to find me, suddenly spied me out, and bore (the whisker shaved off, and leaving the cheek me away in a hurried and excited manner. blue ;) “bacca-pipe” (the whisker curled in tiny “Come along, Jimmy,” said she; “They're ringiets ;) and "touzle" (the whisker worn bushy.) ready to start, and only waiting for you." Going “ Terrier-crop" and "blue-cheek” had, I recol- along, she kindly damped the corner of her apron, lect, a long run.
and wiped my face and hands with it. The barrow-man knew nothing of "Sunday," It was just as she said ; the funeral party were or best clothes. They were his best he could already outside Number Nineteen, and waiting best work in. In these he courted the young lady that I might be coupled to my father, and all be of his choice; in these he married her, worked made right and proper. The graveyard of the old for her, and, when she died, followed her to the parish church was not more than three hundred grave. It was so with my father. The red and yards distant; but the master undertaker, with blue-splashed neckerchief, and the mouse-coloured his shiny boots and his oily hair and his black kid fustian, with big white pearl buttons, were the gloves, looked as though he were going out for fashion at the time when my mother died; and the day at the least. He walked first, slowly, and in these my father, with a pale and troubled face, after him crept the covered load. I think I arrayed himself, by the aid of young Joe Jen- must have been rather a dull boy for my age; but kins's shaving-glass, while the undertaker and his truth compels me to confess that, at starting, it men were busy up-stairs. The only articles my never entered my head what the load was. I saw father had bought specially for the occasion were nothing in it but one of the oddest spectacles it a pair of new ankle-jackets for himself, and a was ever my lot to witness; there was a long black cloth cap with a peak (of the pattern black thing, very shiny and handsome, and hung known as “navy") for me. Having ascertained about with fringe, walking on eight legs—eight that I was to follow, Mr. Crowl, the undertaker, legs and feet, some thin and some thick, and one took my cap, and pinned a long black streamer with a crack in its boot, showing the stocking round it, which trailed down to my heels ; but a through. a little time afterwards, happening to pass me in “What is it, father ?" I whispered him. the passage in the middle of which I was seated, “What's what, my dear?” dividing some hardbake with a few sympathising “That thing with the feet, father." friends his sad face bristled up as he saw a boy “Hus-sh! that's mother, Jiminy. This is standing on my trailing “weeper," and, fetching what I was telling you about, don't you know? him a savage smack on the side of the head, he They're taking of her to the pit-hole.” And, saywiped the dirt off it, and pinned it up to a decent ing this, he made a plunge at his jacket-pocket, length.
and, withdrawing his pocket-handkerchief, flung The followers were to be my father, myself, his hand up to his eyes as though sharp sand had Mrs. Jenkins, carrying the baby, (which, by the blown into them suddenly, filling them with pain. by, I had not set eyes on since the evening when Presently the wind lifting the splendid black Mrs. Jenkins had saved it from falling off my cloth, I peeped up under it, and immediately refather's lap,) and four male friends of my father's, cognised the end of the plain wooden box the who had come early, and were now assembled in woman opposite had lifted me up to the window Jenkins's front room. Two of these four lived to see. From this moment my mind became a in the alley, but the other two were strangers to maze, out of which the grim truth was presently me. Judging from the smell, however, they were to appear. something in the fish way. They wore bits of It was a lovely bright and sunny afternoon, and crape round the sleeves of their flannel jackets; on Clerkenwell Green there was a caravan show and though they looked anything but comfortable of an Indian Chief and a Giantess; and hearing and at their ease, their behaviour was all that could the showman banging at his gong, I saw plenty be desired. They sat in a ring with my father, of boys and girls that I knew running past to see. and smoked their pipes and talked but little, and we turned out of the alley, up Turnmill Street, that in solemn whispers. Their conversation, as round the corner by the Sessions House, and I recollect, (for I was a good deal in and out of through the posts, it gave me quite a turn, as the Jenkins's front room that morning,) was all of a saying is, to find myself unthinkingly knocking melancholy turn, in compliment, I suppose, to the ashes out of my pipe atop of one of those my father. Once, when I went in, they were deep posts the other day,) creeping along at a very in the subject of miracles; and one of the men slow rate. It was very hot and close, with the whom I did not know was expatiating on Jonah's black load shutting out the way before, and the probable sensations while in the bowels of the mourners behind, and the crowd that hemmed us whale. Another time I caught them discussing in at the sides. This, however, would not have
been so bad, only that the navy cap was much too “Of course we have," replies Mr. Crowl, rebig for me, (my father had guessed at the fit,) provingly. and covered my head so that the rim of the peak “What ! right in ? Right where the pulpit and was on a level with the bridge of my nose, and that is ? " prevented my seeing except out of the corners of “Come along; don't talk foolish, man. You my eyes, where the peak tapered off, and its depth shouldn't have come at all if you meant to act in was least. Once or twice I sought relief by tilt- this absurd way.' ing the cap towards the back of my head; but as “But are we 'bliged to go in, Mister?” this caused my weeper to trail on the ground, so “You are not obliged,” returns Mr. Crowl: that Mrs. Jenkins-who came immediately be "still
, having come here, as was supposed, for the hind us, carrying the baby-stepped on it, she purpose, and as friends of the deceased, it seems gave the cap a forward tilt that put me in worse hardly”. case than ever. After a few moments of deep “Wery well, then; since we ain't obliged, we distress I ventured to push it back again, but she would take the liberty of being 'scused, if it's all righted it instantly, and with such a cross “God the same to you, guv'nor. It's a thing wot none bless the child !” that there was nothing left but of us is used to. Not out of any slight to you, to submit. As the reader must ere this have dis- Jim, nor yet to her; that you know, old boy. covered, I was never very partial to Mrs. Jenkins. Suppose we walks round a bit, and waits for you There she was, talking to the baby as it lay in her over there, alongside the-the place. Wherearms (with a weeper round its hood, just such abouts might it be, Mister ?” as I wore round that abominable navy cap) “The grave is number eleven-two-nine, over by talking to it and calling it “poor deserted lamb," the clog-maker's wall,” replied Mr. Crowl, turnjust for all the world as though it knew all about ing about in disgust, and beckoning the bearers the business in hand. I liked Mr. Jenkins much to come on. better than her, she was such a fussing sort of We went into the church, and we came out
again; and that, as far as applies to this stage of Straight up the street, and past the Giant and my mother's funeral, is about all that I know; Dwarf show (from under the eave of my cap 1 for as soon as we got inside we were placed in a could just see the showman exhibiting the dwarf's tall-sided pew, from which (although Mrs. Jenkins hand out of the window of the tiny house it lived took my cap off) I could get a view of nothing in,) past the shop where one day I went with my but the ceiling. True, I could hear somebody mother to buy a second-hand pair of boots, across talking in a loud voice, and now and then somethe road, and there we are at the churchyard gate. body breaking in, in quite another sort of voice, The gate is open, and the beadle, with his laced but what the two were talking about I had not coat and his cane, is waiting just inside. We pass the least idea. I was thinking all the time about inside, the eight legs creeping slower than ever. "eleven-two-nine," and adding up the numbers There is a whole lot of people coming up behind; on my fingers, and wondering what that had got but when all with crape upon their arms had to do with it. I was very glad when the two passed through, the beadle shut the gate and voices ceased, and the old pew-opener came and locked it.
unlatched the pew and let us out. Mr. Crowl, the undertaker, still leads the way. We didn't come out at the door we went in at, There is a long smooth pathway from the gate to but at a little door at the farther end of the the church door, flanked on either side by tall church ; and never having seen the inside of a tombstones, treading over which my father, with church before, the view I got of it on the road the new hobnails in his boots, makes a clatter amazed me exceedingly. I believe I was chiefly that sets Mr. Crowl's teeth on edge, judging from impressed by the immense extent of matting laid the expression of his countenance as he looks over the floor, and with the queer pattern of the round.
candlesticks the beautifully white candles were Arrived at the church door, which is open, Mr. stuck in. We walked as at first, Mr. Crowl headCrowl pauses and faces round, holding up his ing the bearers, and the black load next, then forefinger as a sign to the bearers to pause too. father and I, and then Mrs. Jenkins and the baby. Then Mr. Crowl takes off his shiny hat, and lays Outside the church there was another stone-paved the brim of it to his bosom, at the same time look-path, narrower than the first, but presently we ing more grief-worn than ever, and as though his turned off this and struck across a very hilly road, heart was now racked to the extreme of its power which must have been extremely trying to the of endurance, and nothing short of pressing the eight legs under the black load. To legs of the shiny hat over it would save it from breaking. length of mine, the hills presented obstacles so With his head on one side, that he may get a view formidable that my father had to lift me over the of the mourners in the rear of the black load, he biggest ones, till at last he found it more conve. signs to them to take off their caps before they nient to take me in his arms and carry me. enter the sacred edifice.
From my perch on his shoulder I was the first This, however, brings matters to a momentary to spy our four mourners who could not be perstandstill. My father's four friends seem taken suaded to come into the church. They were quite aback at Mr. Crowl's request, and regard lurking behind a big stone monument, and close each other sheepishly, and as though not quite by them was a heap of ragged clay and a long knowing what to do. Perhaps they think of the black hole. Close by the black hole there was a short pipes in the pockets of their flannel jackets. man dressed all in white, without his hat, and Anyhow, they confer with each other in whispers, with a book in his hand. and after a few moments one of them beckons to Presently we arrived at the black hole and the Mr. Crowl.
bearers came to a stand. Then, all unexpected, “We ain't got to go into the building, Mister, there appeared from among the tall tombstones have we?"
four men in smock-frocks, with their caps all
stained with clay, their boots cloddy, and their thumb in a polite manner towards the publichands earthy, as though they had just come from house. a job of digging. They went straight up to the “In here'll do very well for me if it'll do for bearers (taking off their clayey caps and stuffing you,” said my father, at the same time tapping them into the bosoms of their smock-frocks,) and his trousers pocket independently. laying hands on the black load, lifted it off the So the whole party, with the four bearers, went men's shoulders, and placed it on the grass. In into the public-house, and I, still holding my an instant the bearers whisked off the grand father's hand, went in too. Às we passed the velvet cover, and shook it, and folded it up with bar, Mr. Crowl nodded and whispered to the great care, and walked off with it, straightening landlady; and before we had been in the parlour their backs as they went. Then the four that two minutes, the waiter brought in some beer, had come fresh from digging took the long bare and some gin, and some tobacco. box in their earthy hands, and slung ropes about “How much ?" asked my father, taking out his it, and lowered it into the hole before you might bag. count ten.
I settle for this,” observed Mr. Crowl, waving Now, indeed, I knew all about it-about death his hand towards the bar—as a hint, I suppose, and the grave, and never. The lifting of the that the landlady knew all about it. black cover from the coffin had, as it were, lifted “Now, when I ask a man to drink "_began from my eyes the haze which even my father's my father. vivid explanation had not removed entirely, and “My good friend, I always do it-it's a point I could see things, and hear and understand with me; honour bright, it is,” interrupted the them, exactly as they were. It seemed to me undertaker, staying my father's too ready hand that my mother was but just now dead, and that by a touch of the splint with which he was it was the men with the earthy hands who had about to light his pipe. killed her. If any one of our party felt worse “Very good,” said my father, “it's all the than I did at that moment, I am sure they were same; my turn next.” much to be pitied; but I think none did. My So everybody took to smoking and drinking, father was the only one who might, but he had and in a very short time the place grew so full of known all about my mother being dead ever since smoke that I could hardly breathe ; so after in last Friday, and must have grown a little used to vain trying to make my father understand that I it. He knew, at the time of starting, that we wanted to go, (he had got into an argument with were taking my mother to be buried, and could one of the bearers as to the proper way to prohave been in no way astonished at seeing her put nounce the word “ asparagus,”) i unpinned my into the ground; but it was different with me: sash, and leaving it on the table, stipped out of I had been brought, as it were, to witness her the room and ran home. death-her sudden shutting out from life and the world in the bright sunshine, and a dozen people looking on! It was no comfort to me that everybody looked
CHAPTER VII. sorry. I had seen at least two of my father's friends looking quite as downcast, and even more WHICH CHIEFLY CONCERNS dejected, when trade was slack; and as for Mrs.
CRUEL FATE DECREED TO BE MY STEPMOTHER, Jenkins, I had seen her cry quite as hard, and wring her hands (which now she could not do, hav THE houses in Fryingpan Alley were let out ing the baby) when Mr. Jenkins came home drunk. in floors and single rooms. On the same floor The persons who had most cause to cry were with us there lived an Irishwoman of the dry-eyed enough. My father did not cry. He name of Burke. She was a widow; her huslooked wretched enough to do it, but he didn't; band, a slater's labourer, having, a few months he only stood with his eyes cast to the ground, after his marriage, fallen from the outer slant of nibbling the peak of his cap and listening to the a roof of the ridge-and-furrow pattern, and so parson just as I have afterwards seen a prisoner hurt his spine, that he died on the evening of the in the dock listening to a very light sentence day on which he was carried to Guy's Hospital. from the lips of a judge. I didn't cry. I wanted Mrs. Burke was no favourite of mine-not beto cry very bad, but my eyes only burnt and cause she was old or ugly; on the contrary, she smarted, and the tears wouldn't come. I seemed was a much younger woman than my mother, too full of thoughts pulling this way and that and so merry as to be continually humming or way, and baulking my tears, just as one might singing, and so good-looking that no wake or fancy the rain-clouds beat about by contrary other such jollification ever took piace in the winds, with no chance of settling to a down-pour. neighbourhood without Mrs. Burke receiving an The baby didn't cry, being fast asleep; but I invitation to it. My dislike for her did not arise don't think this was Mrs. Jenkins's fault. from the fact of her having carroty hair. I was
The parson having finished his prayers, shut not over-partial to hair of that colour, and am the book and went away, and the party broke up. not to this day; but there were a good many Mr. Crowl wasn't half so proud as he seemed to people living in the alley whose hair was quite as be at first, but walked by my father's side, chat-red as was Mrs. Burke's, and I got along well ting quite familiarly. He showed us a short cut enough with them. out of the churchyard, into a by-street in which My chief objection was to her complexion, there was a public house, and waiting about just which was sandy. Her face and neck, and arms outside were the four men who carried the cof- and hands, were dotted so closely that you could fin.
scarcely stick a pin between, with pinky-yellow “Shall we go back to the house, or”.
spots, which in my ignorance I firmly believed Mr. Crowl finished the sentence by jerking his could have been washed off had Mrs. Burke used
THE WOMAN WHOM
sufficient soap and energy. That she did not re- | Who alone had a right to do so ? My mother move them, but allowed them to remain and and no one else. Dusk was my time of coming accumulate, (I suppose that they did not accumu- home from play; it was tea-time. Times out of late, but that they did was decidedly my impres- number I had come home exactly at this same sion at the time,) was to my mind a convincing time, and found my mother busy at the fireplace, proof that she was an unclean person, and one putting sticks on the fire to make the kettle boil, whom it would be better to have as little to do ready for my father, so that he might not be kept with as possible.
waiting a moment. The light against the wall Under such circumstances, it was not to be was just such as would be made by the reflection wondered at that I could by no manner of means of blazing sticks. Was it, after all, a misapprerelish Mrs. Burke's victuals. Nothing she could hension on my part ? Was it all a happy misoffer me—and, like all Irish people, she was take about the black load and the pit-hole ? mighty generous and free-handed, especially with Should I find my mother in the room, as she was her cupboard store--could conquer my dislike. when I last entered it five days ago, and saw her I have refused her batter pudding (baked under there? I don't mean to say that all these pork, and steaming from the bake-house) on the thoughts passed through my mind with the plea that I wasn't the least hungry, and two distinctness with which they are here set down, minutes afterwards she has met me deep in the but they all combined to make the glorious maze enjoyment of a slice of bread of my mother's that suddenly fell on me. In the maze I found cutting. If she gave me an apple, I could not my way right up to the door, and there I met eat it until I had pared off the rind ruinously with certain cruel facts that brought me to my thick. I have taken her baked potatoes and art- senses suddenly, as a dash of cold water in the fully conveyed them down-stairs, and hid them in face of one that faints. the dust-bin.
I could see a little bit of the floor of our room “Did you like the praties, Jimmy ?”
through the door-chink-a very little bit, but “Yes, thanky, ma'am; they were very nice." enough to show me that the place had been very
And at that very moment up has come Mrs. recently scrubbed. There was the sound of rockBurke's cat, with one of the identical potatoes in ing a chair in the room, and of a woman singing. her jaws, laying it, all ashes as it was, on Mrs. The voice was a droning voice, and unmistakably Burke's clean hearth, and munching it up under Irish. I knew at once that it could belong to no her nose.
one else but Mrs. Burke. There was no love lost between myself and I ventured to push the door just a very little, Mrs. Burke after that time. She never met me and to take a peep inside. but she gave me an evil look, and once she It was Mrs. Burke. She was sitting by the called me “a mite of shtuck-up thrumpery,'' of fireside, in a clean cotton gown, and with her which I told my mother, who took an early op- Sunday cap on, rocking my little baby sister, and portunity of asking her what she meant by it. singing to her. The tea-things were neatly laid She laughed —
on the table, and the room was filled with the “See now, Mrs. Ballisat! see the mischief the comfortable smell of toast. little rogues might make between friendly folks Everybody had been so busy that day over my wid their funny mistakes! Me call the darlint mother's funeral, that (I think I mentioned this a mite of shtuck-up thrumpery,' indeed! Mary before, by the way) I had missed my dinner, and forbid, ma'am. What I did call him 'a mighty was very hungry. It was a great temptation, but tip-top thrumpeter,' and that bekase of the illi- my squeamishness instantly stepped in with a gant voice that he has, for ever making itself picture of Mrs. Burke's freckled arms and hands. heard about the house. Get out wid you, Master If I go in,” thought I, "she will be sure to ask Jim; divil a compliment you 'll get again out of me to eat some of the toast she has been making, me for one while."
and I would much rather not. I'd much sooner She was always extremely civil to my parents, go without. I'll wait outside here until my father which was not very surprising, considering the comes home.” large quantities of vegetables my father used to At that unlucky moment, however, Mrs. Burke's give her, because of her being a lone woman. cat came out of the back-room, and smelling out
It was Mrs. Burke whom I found occupying where her mistress was, gave a mew, and, butour room when I ran home from the public ting the door wide open, walked in. Mrs. Burke house where my father was staying. As it was paused in her droning, and looking round to see growing towards dusk, nobody noticed me as I who had opened the door, spied me before I came up the alley, and I crept in and went up. could shrink back. stairs. I didn't hurry up, as might be expected “Ah, thin! is it yourself, Jimmy, jewel ?” said of a little boy who had had nothing to eat since she, in a kinder voice than I had ever yet heard breakfast. I had a vague notion that now it was her use. “Come in, thin, darlint, and take your all right in our room, but I was far from certain. place on your little shtool by the fire." I kept close to the wall, and stole noiselessly as “I don't want. I'm warm out here." high as the first landing of our flight, and peeped “Come in now, like a dear, and sit ye down, round the corner. So far all was right; for the and take your tay like a little gintleman,” urged door, which for several days had been kept fast Mrs. Burke, coaxing me forward with her forelocked, and the key kept down in Jenkins's room, finger. was now ajar. I could see the wall that faced There was no use in refusing ; so in I went, the fireplace through the open chink, and to my sulky enough. very great surprise the light of a fire was re But, wrong-headed boy that I was ! I had flected on it. Never through all my life can I scarcely taken six steps in at the doorway before forget the
queer sensations that for a moment be- I was filled with remorse for my ungrateful beset me. Who could have lit the fire in our room? | haviour. The good Irishwoman had made our
place bright as a new pin. Anyone might have and he didn't like it? Course he wouldn't. That's taken his tea there like a gentleman. Never in Jim all over. I know him." my life bad I seen our room looking so beautiful. “Oh no, ma'am ! he didn't call father names; The stove was as black and almost as shiny as Mr. he only would have it that sparrowgrass was someCrowl's hat, and the hearth-even that part of it thing else,—that was all the talk." on which the ashes dropped-was as white as a Mrs. Burke made no answer, but began laugh. cut turnip. Ours was not a very nice set of fire- ing and chirping to the baby in a more cheerful irons--indeed, we only possessed a bent poker way than ever. By and by she laid the baby and a cinder shovel ; but now resting against the down on the bed, and, fetching a broom from her fireplace was a magnificent set, bright as silver. own room, swept up some ashes that had fallen, They were Mrs. Burke's fire-irons, as I knew in- and rearranged the fire-irons. Then she took the stantly from the crinkly pattern of their stems, china butter-boat off the hob, gave it a polish and the shape of their knobs. The ornaments with her apron, and stood it back again. After on the mantel-shelf were polished up, the floor giving several other things a finishing touch, she scrubbed white and finely sanded, and before the retired outside the door, and then put in her head fireplace a clean bit of carpet was 'spread. It as a visitor might, and took a rapid glance round; was Mrs. Burke's tea-tray on which our crockery then she crossed over to the fireplace, and altered stood, and the tea-spoons, genteelly placed in the the butter-boat slightly, so that a looker-in at the cups, belonged also to Mrs. Burke. I was ac- door might obtain at a glance a broadside view customed to take my tea out of a tin pot, but of its splendour. Convincing herself by a second now, standing in the old place, by the side of my glance that her arrangements were perfect, she father's cup and saucer, was a china mug, with took the baby up and went to the window with it gold letters on it—"A present from Tunbridge." in her
arms, and there remained looking towards There was a spoon in the mug, as in the cups. Turnmill Street till it grew quite dark, then she And this was not all. Being a woman without neatly closed the curtains, and set up a candle in children, and natty in her ways, Mrs. Burke had a brass candlestick, that was so bright that you fixed up a sideboard in her room, and on it were could see your face in it. I think she must have arranged all sorts of odd bits of china and glass. observed the admiring gaze with which I regarded The centre ornament of the lot, and one that she the bright candlestick, for said sheprized before all the others, (as was evident from “We must give the dirty thing a rub, Jimmy; its having a fancifully-cut piece of yellow satin to it isn't so clane as you've been used to see it, my stand on,) was a china butter-boat-very old man!” fashioned, but of gorgeous design, and coloured “It is ten times cleaner, ma'am,” returned I, green and blue, and scarlet—with the heads of honestly; "it's beautiful." the rivets that fastened on the cracked spout, “Well, maybe it 'll pass; but your daddy's so bright as spangles. Well, there was the china perticlar, you know; he'll be grumblin' about butter-boat on the hob, with baby's pap in it, and that dirthy ould butther-boat, don't ye think, very beautiful it looked with the light of the fire Jimmy?" glowing on its crimson and green side.
“What dirty butter-boat, ma'am ?” “Where's daddy, Jimmy?” asked Mrs. Burke, “That on the hob with the baby's pap in it, taking off my cap, and tidily hanging it on a nail Jimmy.” behind the door. “Did you leave him in the “Dirty! it isn't dirty; nothing's dirty, exchurchyard, Jimmy?” “ Close by there, ma'am.”
“Except what? out with it! except what, “Where's close by, sonny ?”
now?" "At the public-house, ma'am.”
Mrs. Burke flushed red as she said this, and “Waitin' to take a shmall dhrop at the bar to spoke very quick and sharp; perhaps it was lucky put him in life a little, poor man,” observed Mrs. for me that she did, for in my ignorant eyes the Burke, raising a corner of her clean apron to only exception to the prevailing cleanliness was
“Never mind. Don't cry, Jimmy,” her freckled face and hands, and that was what (I wasn't crying nor thinking about it ;) "he'll I was about to tell her. Seeing, however, how be here directly, I'll be bound."
she was likely to take it, like the little hypocrite “He wasn't at the bar, ma'am; he was inside I was, I replied to her impatient demand for an the room, sitting down with the burying-men.” explanation
“Sitting down, was he ?” said she, chirping to • Except me, ma'am. Here's dirty hands !” the baby, and tickling its little fat chin kindly. My sin carried its sting. Uttering an exclama“Cryin', Jimmy, was he?"
tion as though never in the course of her life she “He was smoking his pipe, and having some had seen hands so hideously dirty (though, in gin, ma'am.”
truth, they were more than usually clean,) she “Oh! it's a darlin'!' cried Mrs. Burke, with laid the baby down, and taking me into her own a sudden gush of affection for my little sister. room, there gave my face as well as my hands “Did he sind you off, Jim ? What did he say?” such a scrubbing with yellow soap and the corner
“I heard him tell the man that "them that of a rough towel as brought the tears to my eyes. growed sparrow grass and sold it, ought to know Then with her own comb she combed my hair, how to spell it better than them who now and and with her own oil oiled it; and somehow or then got a sniff of it passing a cook-shop.' He another, contrived a curl on either temple. Then was a good mind to have a row with the man, I she turned my pinafore, and brought the brass think. I heard him say that he always wanted buckle of my belt well to the front, and gave it to pull a man's nose when he called things by a rub to brighten it. flash names."
“Will you have your tea now, Jimmy; or will "Was the man callin' him flash names? Did you wait a little till daddy comes home?” asked he keep callin' yer daddy 'sir,' and 'Mr. Ballisat,' I she, when she had set me on my stool by the fire.