ly asked for the manufacturer.
She knew him slightly, as he had been occasionally to the "Ship,"
where he had lodged a guest at one time when his house was full,
and at another to call on a fisherman who was an acquaintance, and
who was staying there. He was a blunt man, with a very round head
and a very flat face. His name was Lilliwhite. He had exchanged
words with Mehetabel when she was at the inn, and had always been
kindly in his address.

When she was shown into his office, as ill-luck would have it at
once the child became fretful and cried.

"I beg your pardon," said Mehetabel. "I am sorry to trouble you,
but I wish you would be so good, sir, as to let me do some work
for you in the mill."

"You, Mehetabel! Why, what do you mean?"

"Please, sir, I have left the Punch-Bowl. I cannot stay there any
longer. Do not ask me the reasons. They are good ones, but I had
rather not tell them. I must now earn my own livelihood, and--"
She was unable to proceed owing to the wailing of the infant.

"Look here, my dear," said the silk weaver, "I cannot hear you on
account of the noise, and as I have something to attend to, I will
leave you here alone for a few minutes, whilst I look to my
business. I will return shortly, when the young dragon has ceased
rampaging. I dare say it is hungry."

Then the good-natured man departed, and Mehetabel used her best
endeavors to reduce her child to quiet. It was not hungry, it was
not cold. It was in pain. She could feed it, she could warm it, but
she knew not how to give it that repose which it so much needed.

After some minutes had elapsed, Mr. Lilliwhite looked in again,
but as the child was still far from pacified, he retired once more.

Twenty minutes to half-an-hour had passed before the feeble wails
of the infant had decreased in force, and had died away wholly,
and then the manufacturer returned, smiling, to his office.

"'Pon my soul," said he, "I believe this is the first time my
shop has been turned into a nursery. Come now, before the Dragon
of Wantley is awake and roaring, tell me what you want."

Mehetabel repeated her request.

"There is no one I would more willingly oblige," said he. "You
have ever conducted yourself well, and have been industrious. But
there are difficulties in the way. First and foremost, the Dragon
of Wantley."

"I beg your pardon, sir."

"I mean the child. What will you do with it? If you come here,
engaged by me, you must be at the m