176 Lom Seven Years Old.

were a few cups and plates, and half-a-loaf of
bread. If they had had any dinner that day,
Tom thought, they must have eaten up every
scrap, for there was no cold beef or cold
mutton, or any meat at all to be seen; nothing
but the cups and plates, and half-a-loaf of dry
bread. Tom’s mamma began to talk to the
sick man, and Tom talked to the poor little
girl He was thinking of his six shillings and
eightpence in his hand all the time, but did
not know how to speak of it.

“Do you work?” asked Tom. He was
curious to know.

“ Mother's out,’ answered she; “I mind
father.”

“Ts that work or play ?” said he.
“JT sees to father,” repeated she, “and
lights the fire, and cleans up, and gets
mother’s supper ready.”

“Don’t you do any lessons ?” asked Tom,
surprised. The little girl shook her head.

“ Dear me, how strange!” said he. “I do
lessons every day for two hours, and then I
play afterwards. Do you never play ?”