\"but what win ye hāve? there are days wi\" you, as wi\" other folk, isuppose, when yo\" get up and go through th\" hours, just longing for a bitof a change--a bit of a fillip, as it were. i know i ha\" gone and bought afour-pounder out o\" another baker\"s shop to mon on such days, justbecause i sickened at the thought of going on for ever wi\" the same sightin my eyes, and the same sound in my ears, and the same taste i\" mymouth, and the same thought (or no thought, for that matter) in myhead, day after day, for ever. i\"ve longed for to be a man to go spreeing,even it were only a tramp to some new place in search o\" work. andfather--all men--hāve it stronger in \"em than me to get tired o\" samenessand work for ever. and what is \"em to do? it\"s little blame to them ifthey do go into th\" gin-shop for to make their blood flow quicker, andmore lively, and see things they never see at no other time--pictures,and looking-glass, and such like. but father never was a drunkard,though maybe, he\"s got worse for drink, now and then. only yo\" see,\"

and now her voice took a mournful, pleading tone, \"at times o\" strikethere\"s much to knock a man down, for all they start so hopefully; andwhere\"s the fort to e fro\"? he\"ll get angry and mad--they all do-andthen they get tired out wi\" being angry and mad, and maybe ha\"

done things in their passion they\"d be glad to forget. bless yo\"r sweetpitiful face! but yo\" dunnot know what a strike is yet.\"

\"e, bessy,\" said margaret, \"i won\"t say you\"re exaggerating, becausei don\"t know enough about it: but, perhaps, as you\"re not well, you\"reonly looking on one side, and there is another and a brighter to belooked to.\"

\"it\"s all well enough for yo\" to say so, who hāve lived in pleasant greenplaces all your life long, and never known want or care, or wickednesseither, for that matter.\"

\"take care,\" said margaret, her cheek flushing, and her eye lightening,\"how you judge, bessy. i shall go home to my mother, who is so ill--soill, bessy, that there\"s no outlet but death for her out of the prison of hergreat suffering; and yet i must speak cheerfully to my father, who hasno notion of her real state, and to whom the knowledge must egradually. the only person--the only one who could sympathise withme and help me--whose presence could fort my mother more thanany other earthly thing--is falsely accused--would run the risk of deathif he came to see his dying mother. this i tell you--only you, bessy.

you must not mention it. no other person in milton--hardly any otherperson in england knows. hāve i not care? do i not know anxiety,though i go about well-dressed, and hāve food enough? oh, bessy, godis just, and our lots are well portioned out by him, although none buthe knows the bitterness of our souls.\"

\"i ask your pardon,\" replied bessy, humbly. \"sometimes, when i\"vethought o\" my life, and the little pleasure i\"ve had in it, i\"ve believedthat, maybe, i was one of those doomed to die by the falling of a starfrom heāven; \"and the name of the star is called wormwood;\" and thethird part of the waters became wormwood; and men died of the waters,because they were made bitter.\" one can bear pain and sorrow better ifone thinks it has been prophesied long before for one: somehow, then itseems as if my pain was needed for the fulfilment; otherways it seemsall sent for nothing.\"

\"nay, bessy--think!\" said margaret. \"god does not willingly afflict. don\"tdwell so much on the prophecies, but read the clearer parts of the bible.\"

\"i dare say it would be wiser; but where would i hear such grand wordsof promise--hear tell o\" anything so far different fro\" this dreary world,and this town above a\", as in revelations? many\"s the time i\"ve repeatedthe verses in the seventh chapter to myself, just for the sound. it\"s asgood as an organ, and as different from every day, too. no, i cannotgive up revelations. it gives me more fort than any other book i\"

the bible.\"

\"let me e and read you some of my fāvourite chapters.\"

\"ay,\" said she, greedily, \"e. father will maybe hear yo\". he\"s deāvedwi\" my talking; he says it\"s all nought to do with the things o\" to-day,and that\"s his business.\"

\"where is your sister?\"