"Not I." "I am sorry for that." "Sorry? I'm not. What should I have children for? To pine; while their shack of a father is idling about town and talking wind?" "They would have been a comfort to you, may be," said the vicar, quietly. "I hope your husband does not drink?" "Drink?" said the woman, with a harsh laugh. "Yes, I almost wish he did more; it would stop his talking." "Is he a workman--at the foundry?" "Sometimes, but Mr Dicky Glaire's turned him off again, and now he's doing nowt." "Never mind, don't be downhearted. Times mend when they come to the worst." "No, they don't," said the woman, sharply. "If they did they'd have mended for me." "Well, well," said the vicar; "we will talk about that another time;" and he took the two pieces of slag from his pocket, and placed them on the mantelpiece of the little study, where they were now standing. "Some one threw them at yow?" said the woman. "Yes," said the vicar, smiling. "Just like 'em. They don't like strangers here." "So it seems," said the vicar. "But you did not tell me your name, Mrs--" "Slee, they call me, Slee," was the sulky reply. "Well, Mrs Slee," said the vicar, "I have had a good long walk, and I'm very hungry. If I give you the money will you get me something to eat, while I go down the town and order in some furniture for this little room and the bed-room above?" "Why, the Lord ha' mussy! you're never coming into the place this how!" "Indeed, Mrs Slee, but I am. There's half a sovereign; go and do the best you can." "But the place ought to be clent before you come in." "Oh, we'll get that done by degrees. You will see about something for me to eat. I shall be back in an hour. But tell me first, if I want to get into the church, who has the keys?" "Mr Budd"--Mrs Slee pronounced it Bood--"has 'em; he's churchwarden, and lives over yonder." "What, at that little old-fashioned house?" "Nay, nay, mun, that's th'owd vicarage. Next house." "Oh," said the vicar, looking curiously at the little, old-fashioned, sunken, thatch-roofed place. "And who lives there?" "Owd Isaac Budd." "Another Mr Budd; and who is he?" "Th'other one's brother." "Where shall I find the clerk--what is his name?" said the vicar. "Oh, Jacky Budd," said Mrs Slee. "He lives down south end." "I'm afraid I shall get confused with so many Budds," said the vicar, smiling. "Is that the Mr Budd who leads the singing?" "Oh no, that's Mr Ned Budd, who lives down town. He's nowt to do wi' Jacky." "Well, I'll leave that now," said the vicar. "But I want some one to fetch a portmanteau from Churley. How am I to get it here?" "Mrs Budd will fetch it." "And who is she?" "The Laddonthorpe carrier." "Good; and where shall I find her?" "Over at Ted Budd's yard--the Black Horse." "Budd again," said the vicar. "Is everybody here named Budd?"