“Come in again,” said he, as he saw me start to leave after putting six silver quarters into his hand and not waiting for change. Then a thought struck me. “Have you any lamp chimneys?” “Yes, good ones, too; fifteen, or two for a quarter.” “Give me two,” said I. “Guess your jist settin’ up housekeepin’, ain’t yer?” said Pete, as he hobbled ahead of me to open the door. Having noticed the landmarks, I found my way back without difficulty. If I lied when I told the woman that I had lunched at “Peggy Pete’s” it was my own lie and I will suffer for it. My first move was to place one of the glass cylinders on the lamp. The improvement in the light added a cheeriness, which was partly in keeping with the steaming oyster soup. With the better light I was able to obtain a more distinct view of the woman. Tall, dark and gaunt, her claw-like hands jerked nervously as she hastily unwrapped the packages. Her hair was black as a raven’s wing; her high forehead showed unmistakable signs of intelligence; the rest of her face, save the little piercing black eyes, which now and then flashed with joy and hunger, was horribly misshapen; a huge scar, as from a burn, covered one whole side of her face, while the other was so badly distorted by something of the same nature, which drew her mouth down and back so far on one side, that her molars were plainly visible. She was devoid of eyelashes and her brows only remained in spots. Yet, in spite of her surroundings, her uncouth language, her privations and want, a kindly light shone out of those eyes of ebony, as she said: “Man, I believe you’re all right; anyways you know about what a hungry one wants. This seems like old times,” she added, as she unrolled the generous slices of ham. No persuasion was needed to induce her to eat and I fully enjoyed the spectacle. The feast added much amiability to her versatile nature. Finally she said: “Lord, I wisht the kid was here.” “Who is the kid, tell me,” I said. “Maybe I will, sometime, but tell me, what did you want of Mrs. Densmore?” “I want you to tell me all about yourself.” “And honor bright, now, it ain’t the kid ye want?” “No, bless me, no; I don’t want anybody’s kid.”