my newspaper in the kitching. She
respected the sanctaty of my pantry. When I was a-studying there, she
never interrupted me. She darned my stockings for me, she starched and
folded my chokers, and she sowed on the habsent buttons of which time
and chance had bereft my linning. She has a good heart, Mary has. I know
she'd get up and black the boots for me of the coldest winter mornings.
She did when we was in humbler life, she did.

Enter MARY.

You have a good heart, Mary!

MARY.--Have I, dear John? [sadly.]

JOHN.--Yes, child--yes. I think a better never beat in woman's bosom.
You're good to everybody--good to your parents whom you send half your
wages to: good to your employers whom you never robbed of a halfpenny.

MARY [whimpering].--Yes, I did, John. I took the jelly when you were in
bed with the influenza; and brought you the pork-wine negus.

JOHN.--Port, not pork, child. Pork is the hanimal which Jews ab'or. Port
is from Oporto in Portugal.

MARY [still crying].--Yes, John; you know everything a'most, John.

JOHN.--And you, poor child, but little! It's not heart you want, you
little trump, it's education, Mary: it's information: it's head, head,
head! You can't learn. You never can learn. Your ideers ain't no good.
You never can hinterchange em with mine. Conversation between us is
impossible. It's not your fault. Some people are born clever; some are
born tall, I ain't tall.

MARY.--Ho! you're big enough for me, John. [Offers to take his hand.]

JOHN.--Let go my 'and--my a-hand, Mary! I say, some people are born with
brains, and some with big figures. Look at that great ass, Bulkeley,
Lady K.'s man--the besotted, stupid beast! He's as big as a
life-guardsman, but he ain't no more education nor ideers than the ox he
feeds on.

MARY.--Law, John, whatever do you mean?

JOHN.--Hm! you know not, little one! you never can know. Have YOU ever
felt the pangs of imprisoned genius? have YOU ever felt what 'tis to be
a slave?

MARY.--Not in a free country, I should hope, John Howell--no such a
thing. A place is a place, and I know mine, and am content with the
spear of life in which it pleases heaven to place me, John: and I wish
you were, and remembered what we learned from our parson when we went
to school together in dear old Pigeoncot, John--when you used to help
little Mary with her lessons, John, and fought Bob Brown, the big
butcher's boy, because he was rude to me, John, and he gave you that
bla