M'riar," said Uncle Mo, "there's enough
and to spare old enough for most anything if you come to that. But this
partick'lar sort don't come off. Just you ask anybody. Why, I'll give ye
all England to hunt 'em up. Can't say about foreigners, they're a queer
lot; but England's a Christian country, and you may rely upon it, and so
I tell you, you won't light on any one or two widders' Grannies in the
whole show. You try it!" Uncle Moses was not the first nor the only
person in the world that ever proposed an impracticable test to be
carried out at other people's expense, or by their exertions. It was,
however, a mere _facon de parler_, and Aunt M'riar did not show any
disposition to start on a search for widows' grandmothers.

The discussion was altogether too deep for Dave. So after a moment of
grave perplexity he started a new topic, dashing into it without
apology, as was his practice. "Granny Marrowbone's box on the
chimley-piece is got glast you can see in, and she's got two horses in a
wagging, and the wheels goes round and round and round like a clock, and
there was her daddy stood at the window and there was saskses was took
up froo a hole, and come back froo a hole, and there was Muggeridge that
see to loading up the cart, and there was her and her sister bofe alike
of one size, and there was the water run over...." Here Dave flagged a
little after so much eloquence, and no wonder. But he managed to wind
up:--"And then Granny Marrowbone put it back on the mankleshelf for next
time."

This narrative was, of course, quite unintelligible to its hearers; but
we understand it, and its mention of the carman's name. A child that has
to repeat a story will often confuse incidents limitlessly, and
nevertheless hold on with the tenacity of a bull-pup to some saving
phrase heard distinctly once and for ever. Even so, Dave held on to
Muggeridge, that see to loading up the cart, as a great fact rooted in
History.

"H'm!" said Uncle Mo. "I don't make all that out. Who's Muggeridge in
it?"

"He sees to the sacks," said Dave.

"Counting of 'em out, I reckon." Uncle Mo was thinking of coal-sacks,
and the suggestions of a suspicious Company. Dave said nothing. Probably
Uncle Mo knew. But he was all wrong, perhaps because the association of
holes with coals misled him.

"Was it Mrs. Marrable and her sister?" asked Aunt M'riar. "Why was they
both of a size?"

Dave jumped at the opportunity of showing that he had profited by