uldn't, would we,
'Liza?"

"I should think not, aunt," said the ragged girl. "Neither you nor
poor mother nor father ever taught us that. It was hard enough,
sometimes, as hard as it was yesterday, and is likely to be to-day,
and there wasn't nothing to look forward to, except when I went out
once or twice with father, or when he came home after a pretty good
day, and we had something for supper, and then we often had to sit up
at night to look over all the old clothes and the rags and bottles
that he'd got in change for the dolls or the win'mills, and now we
get more of the country in summer-time, and I ain't left off goin' to
the Sunday-school, have I aunt?"

"No," said the woman, looking down and speaking in a low voice; "I
shouldn't leave that off if I was you, and I often wish you could get
to be in some place of service with a family, or do something better
than live in this rough sort of a way. I a'most wish I'd never took
you away after your mother died; but your father went away and little
Ben was gone to sea, and I couldn't leave a little one like you to
work night after night and day after day at the match-box-making
along with other children, but with nobody to look after you." Here
the poor woman held down her face, and I thought I saw a tear drop on
to the back of the brown grimy hand that leaned upon the bundle of
clothes-props. "But it's no good now," she said, rising from the
bench where we were sitting. "What must be done to-day is to sell
these props and pegs, and to-morrow, if Uncle Dick comes back, and
has been pretty fortunate with the cart, we shall get our eggs and
bacon, and our beef stew again, 'Liza, and most likely shall have a
week or two in Epping Forest, with enough to eat, at all events."

"Stop a minute," said I; "perhaps I might find you a customer for
your props and pegs, and I want to hear about the doll-making and the
windmills."

The woman and the girl sat down again. It was on a bench upon an open
space of ground known as Hackney Downs (a few miles out of London), a
great bare-looking waste, where nearly all the grass has been worn
off, and there's not much to look at; but where a fine air blows, and
where there are a few benches for people to sit upon.

"Well, you see, sir, 'Liza had better tell you about the
doll-making," said the woman, "becos she begun to speak of it: not
that they was what _you'd_ call dolls, but only a sort of rough flat
shape, of a head an' body cut o