knitting which had hitherto occupied her plump white fingers, set her hands upon the elbows of her arm-chair and made a motion to rise. By that time the struggle between the smile and the frown was over and the smile had won. Her placid and good-humoured gaze fcllowed her daughter's languid motion across the room, when suddenly her hands relaxed their hold upon the elbows of the chair, and she sank back with a look in which terror and suspicion were singularly blended. The girl reached a candlestick from the mantelpiece, crossed the room for a spill of paper, returned, lighted the candle and set it in the old man's hand. Then stooping over him she kissed his cheek, and sat down in her corner. The mother arose and left the room. A moment later her voice was heard.

'Now, Willy-um, your mother'll be a sittin' up for you. George Bethell, you ought to ha' been abed an hour ago. Tummas, you're on the night shift, I know, an' it's time as you was gone.' 'Let's have another half-gallint, mother,' pleaded one solemn roysterer gruffly. It'll on'y be a half a pint all round.'

'Not another drop o' drink'll be drawed i' this house this night,' returned the old lady with unusual acidity of tone.

'Missis,' responded the young man first addressed, 'yo' mote [must not] send Tum whum sober. His ode woman ain't used to it. Her'll have a fit, or summat.'

6 Haw, haw, haw!' from the assemblage. turned upon the wag with solemn anger.

The old lady

Willy-um Bowker,' she said, 'you'm worse than any on 'em, an' to be so young too. It's known far an' wide as nobody ever got drink to mek him unsteady at the Saracen's Head, neither Tummas Howl nor no man.'

6

Missis,' said the wag with instant propitiation in his tone, 'it een't like yo to turn rusty at a joke. But we gone away dry to-night i'stead o' drunk, an' for my part I likin' to be about half-way.' A murmur of general approval greeted this statement, and every man seemed to be in favour of the golden mean. the old lady was inexorable.

But

'Drunk or dry,' she said with much acerbity and decision, 'you'll go as you are.'

'Come on, chaps,' said Mr. Bowker, who as yet was beardless. 'Her's as good as a mother to all on us, an' what her says her sticks to. Good-night, missis, and no offence," as Tum said to the windmill last time he fell agen it.'

66

Good-night, missis,' said each grave roysterer as he passed her. She answered each by name. Good-night, 'Minadab. Good-night, Ebenezer. Good-night, Meshach.' And so on through a list of