"No, lass, I ain't a-going to no work'us with poor critturs a-gasping and a-groaning all round. I've kept myself to myself free and independent all my life, and free and independent I'll die. Little Walker catched it 'ot the other day sending a sort of visiting lady 'ere--the Organization lady she calls 'erself, so Mrs. Curtis said. Well, she asked so many questions and wanted to know why I had not had thrift, as she called it, that I turned on 'er and I says: 'I think you've made a little mistake in the number. I ain't got no 'idden crime on my conscience, but I'm a lady of independent means, and must ask for the peace and quiet which is due to wealth.' "I was that angry with the Reverend Walker!--did it for the best, he said, thought as I might have got a little 'elp from the Organization if I hadn't been so rude. The very idea! I 'ate help. I've hung by mine own 'ed like every proper herring and human ought to, and when I can't 'ang no longer I'll drop quiet and decent into my grave. "No, I never got married--what I saw of men in service did not exactly set me coveting my neighbours' husbands, a set of big babies as must have the moon if they want it--to say nothing of the wine, and the women, and the trotting horses, and the betting on them silly cards. Besides, to tell the truth, lass, no man of decent stature ever asked me to wed; being a big woman, all the little scrubs came a-following me, but I would not go with any of them, always liking Grenadier Guards, six foot at least. Perhaps it was as well; I should never have had patience to put up with a man about the place, being so masterful myself; besides, ain't I been sort of father and 'usband to my sister Cordelia? Mother died when Cordelia was born, and she says to me: 'Ruth, take care of this 'elpless babby,' and, God help me! I done my best, though the poor girl made a poor bargain with life, 'er husband getting queerer and more cantankerous, wandering the country up and down as fast as they brought 'im 'ome and having to be shut up in Colney Hatch at the end. I was not going to satisfy that Organization lady's curiosity and boast how I helped to bring up that family, and a deal of 'thrift' that lady would have managed on the two shillings a week I kept of my wages, the missus often passing the remark that, considering the good money she paid, she liked her servants better dressed. Cordelia was left with three little ones, and I couldn't abide the thought of 'er coming to the parish and having them nice little kids took from 'er and brought up in them work'us schools, so I agreed to give 'er eight shillings week out of my wages, and that with the twelve shillings she got cooking at the 'Pig and Whistle' kept the 'ome together. Poor lass! she's had no luck with her boys either, poor Tim going off weak in his head and having to be put away, and Jonathan killed straight off at Elandslaagter with a bullet through his brain. Yes, there's Ambrose--no, I don't ask Ambrose