I protested in vain. My hat and coat had already been removed, and now my hostess insisted that my dress skirt should be hung upon the clothes-horse to dry. Oh, Rose, Rose! what would you not have given to see me ten minutes later clad in a garment which was reasonable enough as to length, but which had to be pinned in a great overlapping fold half round my body? I looked at myself and roared, whilst the owner of the dress shook her sides with merriment. All the same, I had found the inn of the Good Samaritan, and my stay there did not even cost me the two pence of the story. What do you think we had for tea? Muffins, toasted cheese, home-made jam and "spice cake"! I helped to "wash-up," and as the storm continued with unabated fury I resigned myself cheerfully to the snug rocking-chair and the glowing hearth. Thoughts of Mother Hubbard's anxiety worried me a little, but I hoped she would realise that I had found shelter. "You have not told me your name yet," I began, when we were comfortably settled, I with my hands idle upon my lap, and she with a heap of "mending" upon her knee. "Well, to be sure! so I haven't," she replied. "Maria Robertsha' 's my name, an' it's a name I'm noan ashamed on. Not but what I'd change it if someb'dy 'ud give me a better. It's all right livin' by yerself if ye can't 'elp it; an' to be sure, when ye live by yerself ye know what comp'ny ye keep; but them can 'ave it 'at likes for me." "Then do you live here quite alone?" I inquired. "Barring the cat, I do. I did 'ave a parrot one time, 'cos it's nasty temper seemed to make it more 'omelike; but t' lads, young imps, taught it all sorts o' indecent stuff, which made it as I 'ad to part wi' it, an' it was nearly like losing a 'usband a second time. It used to be that gruff an' masterful you wouldn't think! No, I reckon nowt o' livin' by mysen." "It is not good that man should be alone," I quoted. "It's worse for woman," she said, "an' yet, to be sure, I don't know, for a woman 'at is a woman can allus make shift somehow, an' doesn't stand pullin' a long face an' cussin' providence. But men are poor menseless creatures when they're left to theirsens; an' it allus caps me to think 'at they call theirsens 'lords o' creation,' an' yet 'as to fetch a woman to sew a gallus button on, an' 'ud let t' 'ouse get lost i' muck afore they'd clean it. Suppose a man lived 'ere by hissen, do you think this kitchen 'ud look like this?" "I am very sure it would not," I replied, "and it wouldn't if some women lived here."