one in the world since
they were children. If he did not take little Harry, the boy must go
into the workhouse.

Should he tell Nellie that she must make that arrangement? He was an
easy-going chap, this Jim Adams, too easy-going. He stood six feet one
in his socks and was big and broad in proportion, a veritable giant in
looks, but his strength was mere physical strength, and he knew it. He
was not strong in himself. This was the very first time, since he
had known and courted Jane Green, that he had resisted her will for
twenty-four hours, and even now he was contemplating the possibility
of giving way.

Jane could make herself very disagreeable indeed if she were thwarted.
He had had nothing but storming since yesterday morning when Nellie's
letter had come, and he had had two half-cooked suppers and a
miserable cold breakfast. He did like a good supper, and if this was
what it was going to be if he had Harry----

The sound of a gay voice singing on the pathway below, startled him.
There were always noises in the street, but this song caught his
attention.

"_They had not been married a month or more
When underneath her thumb went Jim,
It can't be right for the likes of her
To put upon the likes of him.
It's a great big shame, and if she belonged to me
I'd let her know who's who;
Putting on a fellow six foot three
And her only four foot two!_"

Jim smiled grimly to himself; it was so absolutely true. Then his
wrath rose. What business had Jack Turner to be singing that ditty
under _his_ window? He supposed all the neighbours laughed behind his
back at the way his small wife ruled him. If they only had a taste of
her nagging tongue they would not, perhaps, laugh so much. He would
let them see he was not under Jane's thumb!

He turned at the opening of the bedroom door, prepared to have his
say, and there was Jane with their big bouncing baby in her arms.
"Here!" she said crossly, "you just get this kid off to sleep, I'm
going for the supper beer. I've minded him all day, and I'm tired of
him. I believe he wakes up in the evening just to spite me!"

Jim took his baby and his eyes softened as he cuddled the little
fellow in his arms. He thought of Nellie's beseeching letter, and he
thought of himself as dead and of Jane as dead, and this baby left to
face a cold, unloving world. Would not Nellie have taken him? Would
she not have been a mother to him?

Oh! he