We've to dress her in the mornin' an' undress her at night, an' to feed her like a baby. MOTHER BAUMERT [_Speaking in a complaining, tearful voice._] Not a thing c'n I do for myself. It's far worse than bein' ill. For it's not only a burden to myself I am, but to every one else. Often and often do I pray to God to take me. For oh! mine's a weary life. I don't know ... p'r'aps they think ... but I'm one that's been a hard worker all my days. An' I've always been able to do my turn too; but now, all at once, [_she vainly attempts to rise_] I can't do nothin'.--I've a good husband an' good children, but to have to sit here and see them...! Look at the girls! There's hardly any blood left in them--faces the colour of a sheet. But on they must work at these weary looms whether they earn enough to keep theirselves or not. What sort o' life is it they lead? Their feet never off the treadle from year's end to year's end. An' with it all they can't scrape together as much as'll buy them clothes that they can let theirselves be seen in; never a step can they go to church, to hear a word o' comfort. They're liker scarecrows than young girls of fifteen and twenty. BERTHA [_At the stove._] It's beginnin' to smoke again! OLD BAUMERT There now; look at that smoke. And we can't do nothin' for it. The whole stove's goin' to pieces. We must let it fall, and swallow the soot. We're coughin' already, one worse than the other. We may cough till we choke, or till we cough our lungs up--nobody cares. JAEGER But this here is Ansorge's business; he must see to the stove. BERTHA He'll see us out o' the house first; he has plenty against us without that. MOTHER BAUMERT We've only been in his way this long time past. OLD BAUMERT One word of a complaint an' out we go. He's had no rent from us this last half-year. MOTHER BAUMERT A well-off man like him needn't be so hard. OLD BAUMERT He's no better off than we is, mother. He's hard put to it too, for all he holds his tongue about it. MOTHER BAUMERT He's got his house. OLD BAUMERT What are you talkin' about, mother? Not one stone in the wall is the man's own. JAEGER [_Has seated himself, and taken a short pipe with gay tassels out of one coat-pocket, and a quart bottle of brandy out of another._] Things can't go on like this. I'm dumfoundered when I see the life the people live here. The very dogs in the towns live better. OLD BAUMERT [_Eagerly._] That's what I says! Eh? eh? You know it too! But if you say that here, they'll tell you that it's only bad times. _Enter ANSORGE, an earthenware pan with soup in one hand, in the other a half-finished quarter-bushel basket._ ANSORGE Glad to see you again, Moritz! JAEGER Thank you, father Ansorge--same to you! ANSORGE [_Shoving his pan into the oven._] Why, lad you look like a duke! OLD BAUMERT Show him your watch, Moritz. An' he's got a new suit of clothes, an' thirty shillings cash. ANSORGE