latter from the pump, he saw Ann Jones (the scold of the neighbourhood) hanging out her clothes on a line stretched across from side to side of the little court, and speaking very angrily and loudly to her little girl, who was getting into some mischief in the house-place, as her mother perceived through the open door. “There never were such plagues as my children are, to be sure,” said Ann Jones, as she went into her house, looking very red and passionate. Directly after, Tom heard the sound of a slap, and then a little child’s cry of pain. “I wonder,” thought he, “if I durst go and offer to nurse and play with little Hester. Ann Jones is fearful cross, and just as likely to take me wrong as right; but she won’t box me for mother’s sake; mother nursed Jemmy many a day through the fever, so she won’t slap me, I think. Any rate, I’ll try.” But it was with a beating heart he said to the fierce-looking Mrs. Jones, “Please, may I go and play with Hester. May be I could keep her quiet while you’re busy hanging out clothes.” “What! and let you go slopping about, I suppose, just when I’d made all ready for my master’s breakfast. Thank you, but my own children’s mischief is as much as I reckon on; I’ll have none of strange lads in my house.” “I did not mean to do mischief or slop,” said Tom, a little sadly at being misunderstood in his good intentions. “I only wanted to help.” “If you want to help, lift me up those clothes’ pegs, and save me stooping; my back’s broken with it.” Tom would much rather have gone to play with and amuse little Hester; but it was true enough that giving Mrs. Jones the clothes’ pegs as she wanted them would help her as much; and perhaps keep her from being so cross with her children if they did anything to hinder her. Besides, little Hester’s cry had died away, and she was evidently occupied in some new pursuit (Tom could only hope that it was not in mischief this time); so he began to give Ann the pegs as she wanted them, and she, soothed by his kind help, opened her heart a little to him. “I wonder how it is your mother has trained you up to be so handy, Tom; you’re as good as a girl—better than many a girl. I don’t think Hester in three years’ time will be as thoughtful as you. There!” (as a fresh scream reached them from the little ones inside the house), “they are at some mischief again; but I’ll teach ’em,” said she, getting down from her stool in a fresh access of passion. “Let me go,” said Tom, in a begging voice, for he dreaded the cruel sound of another slap. “I’ll lift the basket of pegs on to a stool, so that you need not stoop; and I’ll keep the little ones safe out of mischief till you’re done. Do let me go, missus.”