of his fingers has come off more than once on account of the damage
done them by the sugar-cracker. Better than any national event, he
recollects the introduction of cube sugar. "When they tubs o'
ready-cracked sugar fust come'd down to Seacombe, 'twer thought a gert
thing--an' so 'twas."

Nearly every year an attack of (sub-acute?) rheumatic fever gave him a
painful holiday, during which he crawled about the crowded cottage at
home on his hands and knees. The one advantage of his irregularly long
hours was that, if work were slack, he could linger over his meals. It
was the assistants who kept a sharp eye on his movements. Them he
hated--and cheeked. "The more I done, the worse they treated me. An' as
I grow'd up an' did often enough more'n a man's work, so I got to know
it. One day I stayed home more'n an hour to breakfast, an' one on 'em
asted me wer I'd a-been, an' I said as I'd had me half-hour to
breakfast, an' he said as I'd had an hour an' a half, an' I told 'en
'twern't no business o' his an' dared 'en to so much as touch me or I'd
knock his head in, which I could easily ha' done--an' there wer the
master standin' by! 'Fore I knowed, he gie'd me one under one yer wi'
one hand, an' one under t'other yer wi' t'other hand; knocked me half
silly; an' said if he had any more o' my chake he'd send me going
thereupon. 'Iss, I said, 'an I _will_ go, an' if I can't pick up a
livin' on the baych wi' fishin' (I 'adn't no boats then, n'eet for
years a'ter), an' if I couldn't pick up a livin' wi' fishin', I'd go to
sea. An' I took an' lef the shop, an' went wi'out me pay due nor nort
further about it.

"Well, I should think as I stayed away two or dree days, saying as, if
I couldn' live _by_ the sea, I'd go off _tu_ sea. By'm-by, ol' Mr
Cloade--I could al'ys get on all right wi' he hisself--'twer they
assistants.... Mr Cloade come'd down to baych an' said as he'd rise me
wages be two shillings, from four shillings to six a week. So I went
back. But 'twern't for long, for I wer turned seventeen then, an'
strong, an' I knowed that six shillin's a week, every penny o' which
mother laid out in groceries--p'raps givin' me dreepence for meself
latterly--that wern't no wage for me doing more'n a man's work, early
an' laate, at everybody's beck an' call. 'Twern't vitty.

[Sidenote: _BRUISED ORANGES AND BRUISES_]

"It come'd soon a'ter.... I wer sorting oranges, an' one o' the
assistants called like they al'ays did: 'Widger, Wi