and a jacket which would have been all the better for patching.
"We thought we should have a good chance of finding you, just after dinner-time," said Margaret.
"We have had our sorrow too, since we saw you," said Mr. Hale.
"Ay, ay. Sorrows is more plentiful than dinners just now; I reckon, my dinner hour stretches all o'er the day; yo're pretty sure of finding me."
"Are you out of work?" asked Margaret.
"Ay," he replied shortly. Then, after a moment's silence, he added, looking up for the first time: "I'm not wanting brass. Dunno yo' think it. Bess, poor lass, had a little stock under her pillow, ready to slip into my hand, last moment, and Mary is fustian-cutting. But I'm out o' work a' the same."
"We owe Mary some money," said Mr. Hale, before Margaret's sharp pressure on his arm could arrest the words.
"If hoo takes it, I'll turn her out o' doors. I'll bide inside these four walls, and she'll bide out. That's a'."
"But we owe her many thanks for her kind service," began Mr. Hale again.
"I ne'er thanked yo'r daughter theer for her deeds o' love to my poor wench. I ne'er could find th' words. I'se have to begin and try now, if yo' start making an ado about what little Mary could sarve yo'."
"Is it because of the strike you're out of work?" asked Margaret gently.
"Strike's ended. It's o'er for this time. I'm out o' work because I ne'er asked for it. And I ne'er
