"Now I tell you all what it is," said I to the children, when Mrs. Lease began to divide it into half-a-dozen pieces, "that bun's for Polly, because she has hurt herself: you shall not take any of it from her. Give it to Polly, Mrs. Lease." Of all the uproars ever heard, those little cormorants set up the worst. Mrs. Lease looked at me. "They must have a bit, sir: they must indeed. Polly wouldn't eat all herself, Master Ludlow; you couldn't get her to do it." But I was determined Polly should have it. It was through me she got hurt; and besides, I liked her. "Now just listen, you little pigs. I'll go to Ford's, the baker's, and bring you all a bun a-piece, but Polly must have this one. They have lots of currants in them, those buns, for children that don't squeal. How many are there of you? One, two, three,---- four." Catching up my cap, I was going out when Mrs. Lease touched me. "Do you really mean it, sir?" she asked in a whisper. "Mean what? That I am going to bring the buns? Of course I mean it. I'll be back with them directly." "Oh, sir--but do forgive me for making free to ask such a thing--if you would only let it be a half-quartern loaf instead?" "A half-quartern loaf!" "They've not had a bit between their lips this day, Master Ludlow," she said, catching her breath, as her face, which had flushed, turned pale again. "Last night I divided between the four of them a piece of bread half the size of my hand; Tom, he couldn't eat." I stared for a minute. "How is it, Mrs. Lease? can you not get enough food?" "I don't know where we should get it from, sir. Lease has not broken his fast since yesterday at midday." Dame Ford put the loaf in paper for me, wondering what on earth I wanted with it, as I could see by her inquisitive eyes, but not liking to ask; and I carried it back with the four buns. They were little wolves and nothing else when they saw the food. "How has this come about, Mrs. Lease?" I asked, while they were eating the bread she cut them, and she had taken Tom on her lap again. "Why, sir, it is eight weeks now, or hard upon it, since my husband earned anything. They didn't even pay him for the last week he was at work, as the accident happened in it. We had nothing in hand; people with only eighteen shillings a week and five children to feed, can't save; and we have been living on our things. But there's nothing left now to make money of--as you may see by the bare room, sir." "Does not any one help you?" "Help us!" returned Mrs. Lease. "Why, Master Ludlow, people, for the most part, are so incensed against my husband, that they'd take the bread out of our mouths, instead of putting a bit into them. All their help goes to poor Nancy Bowen and her children: and Lease is glad it should be so. When I carried Tom to Mr. Cole's yesterday, he said that what the child wanted was nourishment." "This must try Lease."