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For a considerable time before this I had been con- / worse misfortunes at say.” And then she turned
templating the pile of toast inside the fender, my to, briskly mending the fire, and sweeping and
increasing hunger doing battle against my deep- dusting. She wiped the soot from the butter-
seated prejudice against Mrs. Burke's freckles. boat, and gave it a polish on her canvas apron;
The latter lost ground rapidly. To be sure, she she turned the pile of toast topside bottom; and
had taken the bread in her hands to cut; but fetching her hair-brush from the back room,
everything objectionable must have departed from smoothed my hair with it. Then she folded up
it in the process of toasting. But then, she had the sack she had just finished, and laid it on the
to butter it! True again ; but the butter on the top of the other three. Then she went and
top round was by this time nearly all frizzled in. fetched stuff for another sack, and sat down to
Thought I, “If she should ask me to have a piece work again quite comfortable.
of toast, I will say yes, and take that top piece." I was roused from dozing on my stool by the
But, unfortunately, just as she asked me, “Would sound of my father's footsteps, blundering and
I have my tea now, or wait until my father came uncertain, on the stairs. He pushed open the
home?" she stooped to blow off a “ black” that door and came in.
had settled on the side of the butter-boat, and
her freckled arm actually touched the crust of
that very top round.
“I'll wait a little, thanky, ma'am,” said I. “I

CHAPTER VIII.
am not very hungry."

Mrs. Burke worked at making potato-sacks ; IN WHICH MRS. BURKE COURTS MY FATHER. and when I told her that I would rather not begin my tea at present, she went into her own room, COME in, Mr. Ballisat," said Mrs. Burke, in a and in a minute returned, bringing with her three kind and chwerful yoice, and as though my father ready-made sacks and the materials for a fourth. had knocked. The ready-made sacks she placed on a chair by My father came in. He took three or four steps her side, and then fastening a big canvas apron into the room, and then he stood still, staring decently about her, so that her clean cotton gown about him in amazement. That he had been might not suffer, she sat down to work.

drinking rather heavily was evident from the cirIt takes a good while to make a potato-sack. cumstance of his wearing the peak of his cap I don't know how long exactly; but by the time over his ear, instead of the front of his head. In Mrs. Burke had finished the one she had taken in one hand he carried a large plaice, and in the hand, the candle had burned down full two inches. other a bundle of firewood. Mrs. Burke, during the last half-hour at least, had “You've come home earlier than was expicted, grown more and more fidgety. From time to Mr. Ballisat, and caught me at work, sir,” said time she got up from her work, and looked out Mrs. Burke, apologetically. “You 'll pardon the at the window, and listened at the door, grum- liberty of me sittin' in your room; I'll run away bling and muttering under her breath. Growing in a minit." sleepy, I disregarded the pains she had been at So saying, she got up from her chair and began to arrange my hair, and scratched it into uproar to bustle about, lifting back to the wall the chair with both my hands. She rapped out at me in on which the four made sacks were lying, as well the spitefullest manner for this, and called me a as that which she had been sitting on at her work, name which, thanks to my mother's diligence and and there she stood, looking so bright and kind, solicitude, I did not deserve. She had one cor- with the half-made sack on her arm, and her ner of the sack pinned to the table with a sort hand resting on the other four. of bradawi.

It was plain to see that my poor father was “Come here, you (something) little pig,” said completely overcome. Balanced, as it were, beshe: "you may as well hould the candle, as sit tween the fish and the firewood, he stood in the shnorin' and rootin' there."

middle of the room, gazing in serious astonishSo I went and held the candle until the sack ment, first at the butter-boat on the hob; then at was finished; by which time the fire had burnt the baby, tucked up so clean and comfortable in hollow, and, falling in, made a terrible litter over bed. Then, with tears in his eyes, he looked at the white hearth. The toast was scorched dry; me, and at the toast and the tea-things, wagging and a little gas coal, lurking in a chink at the his head in the most solemn manner; and preback of the hob, suddenly spouted out a flame at sently he sank into a chair and buried his eyes in the china butter-boat, and sputtered against it the cuffs of his jacket, the wood rolling away ununtil you could scarcely tell the red from the blue heeded, and the plaice sliding from his grasp for soot.

down on to the sanded floor. “Devil take the whole bilin'!” exclaimed Mrs. “Shure you're not well, James Ballisat," said Burke, glaring round fiercely when she saw all Mrs. Burke, solicitously. “The throubles of this this, and at the same time snatching up the but-day have been too much for you, poor man!” ter-boat at the risk of burning her fingers. “Here “No, no; it isn't not that so much. It's am I, and there is he; and prisintly he'll be it's”. rollin' in as drunk as Davy's sow! It's cashtin' "Askin' your pardon; but that's what it is, pearls before shwine, intirely;" and for a mo- and nothin' else," said Mrs. Burke. “But don't ment she scowled about her, and at me in particu- mind me, poor fellow; it's been my own exshlar, as though I had deliberately, and out of malice, perience, and I know exactly the state of your set the gas-coal at her butter-boat. But in the feelin's, Jim.” same breath as it were, she recovered, and turn “No ; it isn't that so much,” persisted my ing her wrath to music, began humming the fag father; “it's the pictur-the pictur that come end of a tune.

afore me when I come in. I reckons it up comin' “Never mind, Jimmy," said she; " there's along, and what do I make on it ? 'It's all over

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now,' thinks I; 'no more comfortable firesides, /gar, and stirred it. “I think you 'll find that to and kettles a-bilin' ready waitin' for you. The your likin',—just thry it.” wittles you want, you must cook for yourself ; My father looked grateful, and, with a sigh, and if you want a plaice, it's no use you a-buyin' stooped forward and helped himself to toast. of it unless you takes some wood; likewise a bit “Whisha !” exclaimed Mrs. Burke, in a tone of drippin' to fry it in.' Look here, ma'am !” of alarm, as she made a snatch at the slice; " is it

So saying, my father took from his jacket some for the likes of me to see you atein' the top piece dripping in a piece of paper, and, with a sob, laid of all, that's been fryin' before the fire this hour it gently on the table.

and more? Lave that for my atein', if you plase, But, shure, Jim Ballisat, if I may go the and let me help ye to a bit that's soft and butlength of sayin' as much, and knowin', as I well thery.” know, how little throuble you give, and how lit “We shall be spiled, Jimmy, if we're treattle you expect, shure it might have crossed your ed like this," observed my father, turning to me mind that there was a craythur at home as lone as he took the proffered slice. and unfortunit as yourself, who wouldn't see two “You 're welcome to your joke, Jim," said Mrs. motherless babies"

Burke, with a pleasant little laugh: "but, as you "I thinks all this,” continued my father, pur- of coorse know, being so long a married man, suing the thread of his lamentation; "and home that it is just these shmall thrifles that make I comes, and what do I find ? Why, I finds home happy." everything as though nothin' had happened--as “I wasn't a-joking, don't you think it,” rethough more than nothin' had happened, I might plied my father, biting the slice of toast to the say.'

backbone, and slowly masticating it as he gazed And then he took to weeping more violently contemplatively on the fire. “It ain't a joking than before.

matter; more t'other; as much more t'other, “Shure and shure," observed Mrs. Burke, turn- Kitty—'scuse the word, Mrs. B., but seein' you ing away her head and raising her apron, “it was sittin' so familiar-like on that side, and me on the very last of my thoughts to make you take this, comes nat'ral to cut your name short”. on so, Mr. Ballisat; indade and indade it was.” ("Tut!” said Mrs. Burke, pulling out the bows

“No, Kitty, no," sobbed my father; “I don't of her cap-strings) - as I was sayin', what think for a minnit that you thought to hurt my you was sayin' is as much more t'other from feelin's; you've got too good a heart for that. I jokin' as anythink I knows on.” always thought your heart was in the right place : “Put your shtool furder in the corner, Jimmy, now I'm sure of it."

and then daddy 'll get a bit more of the fire,” “Shall you want anything else, Mr. Ballisat?” said Mrs. Burke. asked Mrs. Burke, respectfully, and as though "I'm all right, thanky," returned my father. she had not heard a word of my father's last ob- "Now don't you move; fact is, I'd rather the servation, and she was his humble servant to fire didn't ketch my feet. These new jacks' command, and nothing else. “Shall I pour you do draw 'em so you wouldn't believe, and the out a cup of tea, and then run away to my own fire 'll make 'em wus. I shall be precious glad room and cook the fish while you are gettin' to get 'em off.” on ?"

Then why not get out of 'em at once? Don't "No, thanky, ma'am,” returned my father, now you know your juty to yer father, Jimmy? Unslightly recovered, but still deeply despondent; lace his boots this moment, and get him his "my 'art's too fulí, I couldn't tackle it." shlippers.”

“Not a piece of the back part dipped in but “Get out with you,” returned my father, with ther and browned to a turn ? " said Mrs. Burke, a laugh. “What's the use of your a-talkin' to persuasively.

me about slippers ? Anybody to hear you would "I couldn't, really. Your kindness to me, an think you didn't know me, and mistook me for a unfortnit fellow who didn't oughter expect it, has gentlman.” took away all my wantin' for the plaice. Don't "Got no slippers, Jim !” Mrs. Burke couldn't say no more to me, please, or I shan't be able to have looked more amazed had my father suddenany toast either."

ly disclosed to her as a fact that he had no feet, “Well, if there's anything you want, you've and that what she had been accustomed to regard only to give a call,” said Mrs. Burke, moving off as such were in reality but two wooden stumps. towards her own room.

“Never had a pair in all my life,” replied my “Do you want to go particlar, missus ?” father. “What does a rough and tumble chap “I only go to oblige you, Mr. Ballisat.” like I am warnt with slippers ?”

“Then just sit down and take a cup with us, “ What should he want wid’m ? Shure you that's a good soul. It will be another favour shurprise me by axin' the question, James,” said what I shall owe you for, if you will be so good.” the shocked Mrs. Burke. "As to the roughin'

With an expressive shake of the head, as and the tumblin', it may be thrue while you are though she fully understood the state of my fa- about gettin' your honest livin', but at home it's ther's feelings, and respected him for them, Mrs. different intirely. You know nothin' about a Burke yielded to his persuasion, and drew a chair wife's affections, Jim, if you don't think that she up to the tea-table. Father also drew up a chair. regards him as a gintleman as soon as he sits by

“Do you like your tea sweet, Jim ? Will this his fireside, and she thrates him as sich if she's be too much ?”

the wife she shud be. Unlace your daddy's boots “Don't you trouble about me, missus ; you as I bad ye, Jimmy; and if he'll let us we'll look arter yourself,” replied my father, politely. have his poor feet in comfort in a jiffy."

“Tut! throuble indade!” said Mrs. Burke, as It was not the first time I had unlaced my fashe put in the spoonful of sugar, and then tasted ther's boots, and while I busied myself about the tea in the spoon, and put in a little more su-) them, Mrs. Burke slipped into her room, and

eat

after, as could plainly be heard, much rumma- you is what you've got to act up to, and let's ging and hunting, returned with a pair of slippers have none of your argyments about it,” interin her hand. They were capital slippers, made rupted my father, with a frown. of fine leather, and warmly lined, and must, when # Bless his little heart, he's obejence itself,” they were new, have cost a sum that no one but said Mrs. Burke, at the same time handing me a a person of means could afford to give. Proba- slice of toast. “Eat this, my good little fellow." bly Mrs. Burke had become possessed of them I was obliged to eat it, for she kept her eye on in the course of her charing, and empty-house me all the time. cleaning experiences.

“You must have had a tightish time of it, I “They belonged to my good man that's dead should think, marm,”. my father presently oband gone-rest his sow!,” said Mrs. Burke; "and served, “what with minding the young 'uns, and it's like my preshumption, as you'll say, to offer making the place so beautiful and clean.” ye the likes of sich rubbish; but it pains me to “ Indade the hintherence the little craythurs hear you complain of achin' feet, poor fellow; have been isn't worth the talk you 've wasted on and you'll maybe pardon the liberty on that it; they ’re rather an amusement than a hinther. ground. P'r’aps they're a thrifle damp, so we'll ance,” replied Mrs. Burke, lightly. warm 'em.”

“Well, you 're a queer sort," said my father, So she did. She went down on her knees, and pleasantly. “There's no keepin' a place tidy held the slippers to the fire until they were as where there's a young 'un; at least that's what warm as the toast by the side of them, by which I've always been give to understand.” time I had managed to haul off the heavy ankle “ Tut; it just dipinds on the way of going jacks. Then she turned about, still on her knees, about it,” replied Mrs. Burke. “When one's and fitted the warm slippers on to my father's used to tidying a place, the job comes as easy as feet, clapping her hands, and looking as delighted play. But, there, Mr. Ballisat, I 'll lave you to as though they were her feet that were being judge for yourself how much and how little comforted, to find that they fitted so nicely. throuble they've been to me, for here's the sacks

"Are your feet aisier now, Jim ?" she asked. I've made meanwhiles at fourpence ha'penny

“They feels as though they was kivered with each.” welwet,” replied my father, holding up a foot, and “What! done all the clearing and made all regarding it approvingly. “They must have cost them sacks ?” exclaimed my father, running his a goodish bit. D'ye mean to say that you was thumb up the work to count it. “Earnt eighteenable to screw the price of 'em out of Tim's earn- pence, minded two kids, and cleaned a place in in's ?"

one arternoon! Dashed, you 're the sort !” “Bedad, it would have puzzled me,” laughed “And not hurried myself nayther," rejoined Mrs. Burke. "No, Jim, I saved up to buy 'em Mrs. Burke, laughing; "it isn't a thrifle of work for him; saved up out of my own earnin's a that frightens Kitty Burke, anyhow.” pinny or so a day."

Now, as the reader has already been made "You don't mean to say that!' exclaimed my aware, this was not the truth by a very long way. father, leaning back in his chair, and wondering. She had not made all the sacks since she sat ly regarding Mrs. Burke with his only half-sober down; she had brought in three ready-made, and eyes.

all she had completed was one and part of *And why not? Wasn't it my juty so to do another. Thinking that it was merely a mistake for the man who was workin' and toilin' for me on her part, I was about to correct her, but at from daylight till dark? If I couldn't do that the very moment of my opening my mouth her and a great deal more for the man of my choice eyes caught mine, and, evidently guessing my inand the mate of my hearth; if I hadn't made tention, she shook her head, and frowned in a up my mind to do it fust and forrard, I'm not way that was not to be mistaken, But I didn't the woman that would have crossed the church care for her; I owed her a grudge for making me threshold wid him."

hold the candle, to say nothing about the name After this my father settled down to his tea," she had called me. Besides, my father was there, without uttering another word, only from time to and she daren't touch me. So, said I, edging time regarding Mrs. Burke intently, and tossing closer to my fatherhis head as though his mind was still occupied “What a wicked story-teller you are, Mrs. with her astounding views of the duties of a wife. Burke !"

“We ought to be very grateful, Jimmy,” said Her rage was tremendous. She glared at me he, as he helped me to a drink out of his saucer; till she squinted. “even when our luck seems deadest out, Jimmy, “What's that ?” asked my father, turning we never knows what's a-goin' to turn up. As shortly round on me. the puty song ses, "There's a sweet little chirrup “So she is,” I stoutly replied. what sits in the loft,' don't you know".

“So she is what? Who are you a callin she,' “Looks after the life of poor Jack,'” softly you unmannered little warmint ?

She's the cat, sang Mrs. Burke, in her pretty voice.

don't you know ? Now, then, what do you mean “Ah! and not on'y Jacks but Jims, and any by sayin' that Mrs. Burke is a story-teller ? other poor cove what stands in need of it,” said I watched his hand stealing to his waist-belt, my father, wagging his head impressively. “I and I was afraid to open my mouth. hope you will never stand in need of it, Jimmy; “Lor' bless his heart, don't be angry with him, and if you bears in mind what the doctor said to Jim; shure he manes no harm. He was only you the other night, you won't. So just you be a about to tell you of the purty stories I've been good boy, and mind what Mrs. Burke tells you." tellin' him to keep him awake till his daddy come

“He didn't tell me to mind what Mrs. Burke home. That's what he meant by callin' me told me, father; he told me to ".

story-teller, Jim." “Never mind what he told you; what I tell “Oh, that's it! I thought he was going to in

sinivate that you was tellin' a crammer about the “ Breakfast! Lor' bless yer !” laughed my sacks."

father, “I gets my breakfast in the market.” " How do you mane, Mr. Ballisat?" asked Mrs. “And why, may I ask? Shure the bit of Burke, innocently.

breakfast must be more comfortable at your own “Well, I thought the young stoopid was going fireside than in the cowld market, Jim ? to say that you were wrong in the number; not “So it is, but I'm off at five to-morrow mornthat it's any business of mine, or his'n either, ing, and so you see it can't be managed,” replied come to that.”

my father, “ But the thruth is everybody's business, Jim," "And why not?” asked Mrs. Burke, opening replied the virtuous woman. Then turning to me, her brown eyes in affected astonishment. "Is it winking and frowning, said she, “See, Jimmy bekase you are left alone that you are to go out dear, here is four sacks; tell your daddy how in the cowld widout the dhrap of coffee to warm many I have made while you have been sitting you? Shure, sir, I should be no dacent woman, and watching me."

though it wor three o'clock instead of five when What was I to do? Evidently my father was you went out. Good night, Mr. Ballisat; no fear more disposed to believe her than me. I had but the kettle will be biling in time for yer." never tasted the strap myself; but I had seen it And she kept her word. I slept with my laid over my mother's shoulders till she screamed father, and while it was yet quite dark there came murder.

a knock at our door. “ Four, ma'am," I answered.

“There's the pleseman knocking to say it's a « Of course," said Mrs. Burke, quietly; “ that's quarter to five, Jimmy,” said my father, sleepily; thrue all the world over.” And shortly after-“just hop out and tap at the window, my boy." wards she gave me a spoonful of sugar.

But at the same moment Mrs. Burke's cheery I think I may say that that was the first delib- voice was heard outside the room doorerate lie I ever told in my life; and I verily be “It's half afther four, Mr. Ballisat, and the lieve it was one of the most mischievous. My kettle 's biling, and there's a nice bit of the fish father being half tipsy at the time, he might all hot and a-waitin' for you," said she; and then have forgotten all about the circumstance by the she tripped back to her own room, humming as morning ; but, according to my experience of my gay as a lark. Presently she was back againfather's memory, what transpired in his presence “May I throuble you to bring out the needle at such times was tolerably accurate. To this off the mantel-shelf, Mr. Ballisat? I've just be day, I believe that when Mrs. Burke demonstrat- thought me I left it there overnight. My silly ed to him how easily she could earn eighteen-head will niver save my fingers, which have been pence, it made a strong impression on him- itching to get at the bit of work this half an stronger even than the Irishwoman's tea-table hour." solicitude and the loan of the slippers. I further “All right, ma'am,” called my father, and believe that the remarks I made tended to raise then, in an under-tone, and to himself, he mutin his mind doubts as to the truth of her state- teredment, and that the said doubts were completely “ 'Send I may live ! I never come across such dissipated by my corroboration of the said state- a woman!" ment. If this view of the case is a correct one, I stand convicted of being an accessory to a very lamentable swindle.

CHAPTER IX. At the time, however, I was incapable of this sort of reasoning, and I was inclined even to look

FROM A CONVERSATION BETWEEN MY FATHER gratefully on Mrs. Burke for helping me out of a threatened danger. I was glad that, just in the nick of time, the baby awoke, and put an end to The reader, of course, foresees the ending of the conversation concerning the sacks.

such a beginning--Mrs. Burke became my stepMrs. Burke took the baby up, and, composing mother. I cannot exactly state how long a time it comfortably on her lap, begged my father to be elapsed from the time of my father burying his good enough to hand her the butter-boat from off first wife to his marrying the second, but it must the hob;

and then she proceeded to feed the lit- have been several months—seven, at the least, I tle thing, and kiss it, and talk to it in a way that should say, for when it happened, my sister Polly quite went to one's heart to witness. No doubt had grown to be quite a big child; indeed, I reit would have gone to my father's heart; but be collect that it was as much as I could do to carry coming drowsy, and feeling warm and at his ease, her from one end of the alley to the other without he presently dropped to sleep-a fact Mrs. Burke resting. But however long a time it was, it saw was unaware of until he began to snore, when she no alteration in my sentiments towards Mrs. looked up, and with a little toss of her head fin- Burke. It is not enough to say I liked her as little ished feeding my sister in silence. The operation as ever. When I first made her acquaintance I completed, she carried the baby off to her own simply disliked her; now I hated her deeply and room, and after that only came in once, to carry thoroughly. She hated me, and made no scruple away the tea-things, waking my father by the of letting me know it. The very first morning clatter she made with them.

after the memorable day of my mother's funeral “What time will you be risin' in the mornin', she told me her mind without reserve. Mr. Ballisat?” asked she, respectfully.

“Come here, my dear,” said she, gripping me “What time, ma'am? oh, about the usual : by the arm and pulling me towards her, as she

sat on her chair. “You recollect the divil's “Bekase of your breakfast. If you 'll kindly prank you had it on your tongue's tip to play me give us the hour, I'll be up and have the kettle lasht night?” She spoke in allusion to the threatbiling."

ened sack exposure.

MY NEW MOTHER.

I DERIVE A VALUABLE HINT

AND HIS PAL,

why?”

I made her no answer, but she could of course injury in the matter of food. There was always see that I well understood what she meant. a bit of something hot got ready for my father's

“You thought you might dare me becase or supper, and when-as happened at least four days yer father being prisint! You thought bekase out of seven-I had no more than a crust of bread of me winkin' and coaxin', and givin' you sugar, between breakfast and tea, I would contrive to that I was afeard you'd open your ugly mouth! make myself conspicuous, when he sat down to Hould up your head, you sarpint, and look at me! eat, in hopes of getting a bit. If Mrs. Burke's Listen here, now. You've got the ould un in back was turned, I was pretty sure to come in for yer, and I mane to take it out of yer. I'm goin' a mouthful ; but so sure as she caught my father to be alwis wid you, to look afther and feed you; in the act of helping me from his plate, she would you'll get nayther bite nor sup but when it's instantly interfere. plisant to me to give it you. So mind your be “For the love of Hivin, man, hould your hand, hayvour. Dare so much as make a whisper to unless you'd have him stretched on a bed of sickyer father of what I say or what I do, and I'll ness wid over-ateing. He is a very dacent boy, make your sbkin too hot to hould you."

Jim, but his gluttony at his meals is somethin' And seeing how hopeless it was to show fight awfúl. 'Twas ony this blissed dinner-time—and against such a creature, I am sure I did mind my there he is, and can't deny it—that he was helped behaviour. I did her bidding in every particular, three times to biled mutton, and each time enough and fetched her little private errands, and kept for a man and his dog, as the sayin' is." her secrets faithfully; but she didn't treat me at “And yet you comes a-prowlin' round and all well. If she didn't make my skin too 'hot to a-showin' your teeth at me as though you hadn't hold me, it was not for want of trying. From tasted a bit for a week, you greedy young willin!” breakfast time to within a few minutes of my my father would observe, savagely. "You 're father's coming home, I was kept at it, drudge, better fed than taught—that's what you are. Be drudge, drudge, as hard as any charwoman. Indeed, off to bed, now, before you ketch a larruping." no charwoman would have engaged to perform

the And to bed I would go, an empty-bellied and many various jobs that were put on me. The wretched little boy, not daring to utter a word in baby was my chief care. I was either lugging explanation. her about the alley, or sitting on my stool at the One day she served me an especially villainous street door, or in the back yard, (Mrs. Burke trick, and one that is among the greenest of a could not bear to hear the baby cry,) hushing her hundred such in my memory. A woman called to sleep; and when, after long and patient exer- on Mrs. Burke one morning shortly after breaktion, this was accomplished, and she was laid in fast, and they drank gin between them until every her cradle, I was set to making waxed ends for farthing of the half-crown my father had left to buy Mrs. Burke's sack-making, or fetching up coals, our dinner and his supper was consumed. When or sifting cinders, or slopping about with a house- the woman was gone, and she recovered from her flannel and scrubbing-brush. Of one sort and half-fuddled condition, Mrs. Burke began to feel another, there was always employment found for alarm. The money to buy my father's supper me from the time little Polly went to sleep until must be raised somehow; but how? Her other she woke up again; and all without so much as gown-the flat-irons--the china butter-boat, even a kind word or look even.

-were already at the “leaving shop,” and there She was a wicked woman. She used to buy was no one in the neighbourhood that would gin with the housekeeping money, and threaten lend to her, or trust her with their goods without me with all sorts of dreadful punishments if I did cash down. Presently she went out, and in a litnot promise to tell my father, should he ask me, tle while returned in a condition of sad distress, what a beautiful dinner I had bad. She was art- and took to rocking herself in a chair, and crying ful to that extent, that she would send me to the and moaning in a way that went to my heart to broken victual shop at Cowcross for a penny or a hear. three-halfpenny bone, and this she would place in “Ow, what'll I do? what'll I do?” cried she. the cupboard, so that my father, when he came “Your daddy'll be comin' home by and by, Jimhome, might see it, and believe that it was what my, dear, and there'll be no supper for him, and was left from the nice little joint we had partaken he'll be beating me till I'm dead. Ow! what 'll of at dinner-time. She was always very particu- a poor lone craytur do widout a frind in the lar in telling me to be sure and bring a small bone world to help her ?” or bones, such as those of the loin of mutton, or I never could bear to see any one crying. Had a dainty spare-rib of pork, or a blade-bone of Mrs. Burke intimated to me with tearless eyes lamb-any bone, indeed, that might belong to a and in her usual manner of talking, that there was joint of meat of a sort that might be bought as a danger of my father falling on her and beating dinner for two persons. Once I recollect bring her to death, whatever answer I might have made, ing back a single lean rib-bone of beef of at least I should undoubtedly have thought in my inmost twenty inches in length, which was, of course, ill. mind that it was exactly what I wished ; and I suited to her fraudulent designs, and so exasper- verily believe that I wouldn't have given a button ated her that she banged me about the head with certainly not a “livery” one-to have turned it, and then packed me off to the rag-shop to sell him from his purpose. But her moaning and it for a halfpenny. I was terribly hungry at the weeping, and calling me Jimmy dear, was altotime, and what little meat there was on the bone gther more than I could bear; and approaching was very crisp, and brown, and tempting, and I her, I tried to console her, and told her how willbegged leave to eat it; but she wouldn't hear of ingly I would help her if I knew how. it. She didn't want it herself. She would eat “So you say, Jimmy; so you say ; but you scarcely an ounce of meat from Monday till Sat- don't mane it," replied Mrs. Burke, wringing her urday, liking gin so much better.

hands in the extremity of her woe. “How can She would even go out of her way to do me an Iyer mane it, Jimmy, afther me bad tratement of

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