All the women, with the exception of Mrs. K., are notable managers, and all but Mrs. K. and Mrs. P. are extremely tidy and clean. Mrs. K., who has five sons and a daughter, is more happy-go-lucky than the others, as, fortunately for her, her husband “can’t abide ter see the ’ouse bein’ cleaned,” and when it is clean “likes to mess it all up agen.” Mrs. K. doesn’t go in for worryin’ the boys, either. Her eldest child is Louie, the only girl, who is thirteen, and rather good at school, but doesn’t do much to help at home, as Mrs. K. likes to see her happy. With all her casual ways, Mrs. K. has a delicate mind, and flushes deeply if the visitor alludes to anything which shocks her. Louie’s bed is shared by only one small brother; Louie’s clothes are tidy, though Mr. and Mrs. K. seem to sleep among a herd of boys, and Mrs. K.’s skirt looks as though rats had been at it, and her blouse is never where it should be at the waist. Mrs. P. is under thirty, and, when she has time to look it, rather pretty. Her eldest child is only ten. The tightest economy reigns in that little house, partly because Mr. P. is a careful man and very delicate, and partly because Mrs. P. is terrified of debt. It was she who discovered the plan of buying seven cracked eggs for 3d. As she said, it might lose you a little of the egg, but you could smell it first, which was a convenience. She is clean, but untidy, very gentle in her manner, and as easily shocked as Mrs. K. Her mother rents one of her rooms, and, much beloved, is always there to advise in an unscientific, inarticulate, but soothing way when there is a difficulty. The children are fair and delicate, and are kept clean by their tired little mother, who plaintively declared that she preferred boys to girls, because you could cut their hair off and keep their heads clean without trouble, and also because their nether garments were less easily torn. When in the visitor’s presence the little P.’s have swallowed a hasty dinner, which may consist of a plateful of “stoo,” or perhaps of suet pudding and treacle, taken standing, they never omit to close their eyes and say, “Thang Gord fer me good dinner—good afternoon, Mrs. R.” before they go. Mrs. P. would call them all back if they did not say that.