ds
in his empty pockets, Mrs. Cadge was washing the dishes.

"Did the man give you a job?" inquired his wife brightly.

"Wot man? Wot job? Where's my supper?" snapped Cadge. Then, as the
ingenious ruse occurred to him, a flood of language rose to his lips and
would not be dammed, though everything else was.

"Gone and hogged all the supper, did you!" he growled. "H'it's a nice
state of affairs, when a man comes 'ome from a 'ard day's work to a
h'empty table."

"But it was such a little steak, Tom," urged his wife, "and the children
were so hungry that I let them finish it."

There was no money in the house, and Snavely, the only credit grocer,
had closed his shop, so Mr. Cadge's supper that night was bread and
cheese without kisses.

Sunday was a long-remembered day of misery for Cadge's wife and
children, who played the scapegoat for Mr. Snavely and whipping-boy for
Mrs. Pipkin.

Monday morning the head of the house arose early and, before Mrs. Pipkin
had finished her beauty sleep, that hard-working man was at the door
demanding his pay. An hour was all the time she required for dressing.
Mr. Cadge wished he had broken his fast before leaving home.

"Really, I don't know whether I ought to pay you," replied Widow Pipkin
when she finally answered his last, desperate ring. "Mr. Snavely made
the bargain, and I should like to have him see the work before settling
with you."

She jingled some silver in her plump chain purse as she spoke.

Aha, the widow had deceived him! It was eight o'clock, the bank would
not open for an hour, she had had the money in the house all the time.
The deceitfulness of women!

Mr. Cadge's blood rose to his head. His little green eyes smouldered.
Fortunately for the widow, Mr. Snavely drove up at that moment on his
delivery wagon, and cheerfully agreed to appraise the work.

"Oh, come now, Cadge, my man, you don't call that a finished job, I
hope? Why, it is three foot short at each end and lacks a tier at the
top. You had better pitch in for an hour or two and make a fair job of
it, and then you'll get your money."

"Wot do you call a fair job, I should like to know?" replied the heated
Cadge; "look at them 'ere boulders, as I fished out of the h'icy water
at peek o' day! Look at all them little stones, h'every one of them as
cost me backache and sweat. H'if that job ain't worth six dollars it
ain't worth six cents."

"Mebbe so, mebbe so, my good man," responded the grocer, gen