blindness from tears, she pulled up a young turnip, and
the farmer fell on her and rated her hotly for not being worth half her
wage, and doing him more harm than good with her carelessness. She had
not a word to say for herself, and went on shivering and trying to check
her sobs while he shouted out that he only employed her from charity,
and she had better look out, or he should turn her off at once.

"Oh, sir, don't!" then came out with a burst of tears. "My poor
children--"

"Don't go whining about your children, but let me see you do your work."

However, this last sentence was in a milder tone, as if the fit of
passion had exhausted itself; and Mr Goodenough found his way back to
the path that crossed the fields, and went on. Tirzah Todd set her
teeth, clenched her fist and shook it after him, while the other women,
as soon as he was out of sight, began to console Bessy Mole, who was
crying bitterly and saying, "what would become of her poor children, and
her own poor father."

"Never you mind, Bessy," said Molly Hewlett, "every one knows as how old
Goodenough's bark is worse than his bite."

"He runs out and it's over," put in Betsy Seddon.

"I'm sure I can hardly keep about any way," sobbed the widow. "My
inside is all of a quake. I can't abide words."

"Ten to one he don't give you another sixpence a week, after all," added
Nanny Barton.

"He ain't no call to run out at one," said Tirzah, standing upright and
flourishing her baby.

"I'd like to give him as good as he gave, an old foul-mouthed brute!"

"Look there! There's the ladies coming," exclaimed Nanny Barton.

"I thought there was some reason why he stopped his jaw so soon,"
exclaimed Molly, stooping down and pulling up weeds (including turnips)
with undiscerning energy, in which all the others followed her example,
except Tirzah, who sulkily retreated under the hedge with her baby,
while Jem Hewlett and Lizzie Seddon ran forward for better convenience
of staring. It was a large field, and the party were still a good way
off; but as it sloped downwards behind the women, the farmer must have
seen them a good deal before the weeders had done so.

These, be it remembered, were days when both farmers and their labourers
were a great deal rougher in their habits than we, their grandchildren,
can remember them; and there was, besides, the Old Poor Law, which left
the amount of relief and of need to be fixed at the vestry meetings by
the rat