A CHILD OF THE JAGO
wot you can with rush bags, an' sacks, and match-boxes, an' wot not," he said to his wife, and she assented. Josh nodded: "An' if you 'ave to go in the 'ouse,"—he meant the work-house,—"well, it can't be 'elped. You won't be no wuss auf 'n me."
"Oh, she'll be awright," said Bill Rann, jerking his thumb cheerfully toward the missis. "Wot about you? Think they'll make it Parkhurst?"
Josh shook his head moodily. Parkhurst being the prison reserved for convicts of less robust habit, he had little hope of enjoying its easier condition.
Presently he said: "I bin put away this time—fair put away."
"Wot?" answered Bill, "narkin' dues is it?"
Josh nodded.
"'Oo done it then? 'Oo narked?"
Josh shook his head. "Never mind," he said, "I don't want 'im druv out o' the
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