. After I tole on 'im 'e never said a word...."

Tom meditated for a space. "First chap I ever sin 'ung!" he said.

"Ow old was you?" asked Teddy.

"'Bout thirty," said old Tom.

"Why! I saw free pig-stealers 'ung before I was six," said Teddy.
"Father took me because of my birfday being near. Said I ought to be
blooded...."

"Well, you never saw no-one killed by a moty car, any'ow," said old Tom
after a moment of chagrin. "And you never saw no dead men carried into a
chemis' shop."

Teddy's momentary triumph faded. "No," he said, "I 'aven't."

"Nor won't. Nor won't. You'll never see the things I've seen, never.
Not if you live to be a 'undred... Well, as I was saying, that's how the
Famine and Riotin' began. Then there was strikes and Socialism, things
I never did 'old with, worse and worse. There was fightin' and shootin'
down, and burnin' and plundering. They broke up the banks up in London
and got the gold, but they couldn't make food out of gold. 'Ow did WE
get on? Well, we kep' quiet. We didn't interfere with no-one and no-one
didn't interfere with us. We 'ad some old 'tatoes about, but mocely we
lived on rats. Ours was a old 'ouse, full of rats, and the famine never
seemed to bother 'em. Orfen we got a rat. Orfen. But moce of the people
who lived hereabouts was too tender stummicked for rats. Didn't seem
to fancy 'em. They'd been used to all sorts of fallals, and they didn't
take to 'onest feeding, not till it was too late. Died rather.

"It was the famine began to kill people. Even before the Purple Death
came along they was dying like flies at the end of the summer. 'Ow I
remember it all! I was one of the first to 'ave it. I was out, seein' if
I mightn't get 'old of a cat or somethin', and then I went round to my
bit of ground to see whether I couldn't get up some young turnips
I'd forgot, and I was took something awful. You've no idee the pain,
Teddy--it doubled me up pretty near. I jes' lay down by 'at there
corner, and your aunt come along to look for me and dragged me 'ome like
a sack.

"I'd never 'ave got better if it 'adn't been for your aunt. 'Tom,' she
says to me, 'you got to get well,' and I 'AD to. Then SHE sickened. She
sickened but there ain't much dyin' about your aunt. 'Lor!' she says,
'as if I'd leave you to go muddlin' along alone!' That's what she says.
She's got a tongue, 'as your aunt. But it took 'er 'air off--and arst
though I might, she's never cared for the wig I got 'er--orf th