A CHILD OF THE JAGO
added suddenly: "S'pose father 'll be smugged some day, eh, mother?"
His mother made no reply, but bent languidly over the baby with an indefinite pretence of settling it in a place on the bed. Soon Dicky himself, in the short and ragged shirt he had worn under the jacket, burrowed head first among the dingy coverings at the foot, and protruding his head at the further side took his accustomed place crosswise at the extreme end.
The filthy ceiling lit and darkened by fits as the candle-wick fell and guttered to its end. He heard his mother rise and find another fragment of candle to light by its expiring flame, but he lay still wakeful. After a time he asked: "Mother, why don't you come to bed?"
"Waiting for father. Go to sleep."
He was silent for a little. But brain and eyes were wide awake, and soon he spoke again. "Them noo 'uns in the
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