enters, carrying a pile of unfinished corduroy trousers nearly
as large as herself. She puts them down against the wall, and
advances. She is eleven or twelve years old; large-eyed, dark
haired, and sallow. Half a woman of this and half of another
world, except when as now, she is as irresponsible a bit of life
as a little flowering weed growing out of a wall. She stands
looking at MRS. LEMMY with dancing eyes.

L. AIDA. I've brought yer to-morrer's trahsers. Y'nt yer finished
wiv to-dy's? I want to tyke 'em.

MRS. L. No, me dear. Drat this last one--me old fengers!

L. AIDA. I learnt some poytry to-dy--I did.

MRS. L. Well, I never!

L. AIDA. [Reciting with unction]

"Little lamb who myde thee?
Dost thou know who myde thee,
Gyve thee life and byde thee feed
By the stream and oer the mead;
Gyve the clothing of delight,
Softest clothing, woolly, bright;
Gyve thee such a tender voice,
Myking all the vyles rejoice.
Little lamb who myde thee?
Dost thou know who myde thee?"

MRS. L. 'Tes wonderful what things they tache ya nowadays.

L. AIDA. When I grow up I'm goin' to 'ave a revolver an' shoot the
people that steals my jools.

MRS. L. Deary-me, wherever du yu get yore notions?

L. AIDA. An' I'm goin' to ride on as 'orse be'ind a man; an' I'm
goin' to ryce trynes in my motor car.

MRS. L. [Dryly] Ah!--Yu'um gwine to be very busy, that's sartin.
Can you sew?

L. AIDA. [With a Smile] Nao.

MRS. L. Don' they tache Yu that, there?

L. AIDA. [Blending contempt and a lingering curiosity] Nao.

MRS. L. 'Tes wonderful genteel.

L. AIDA. I can sing, though.

MRS. L. Let's 'ear yu, then.

L. AIDA. [Shaking her head] I can ply the pianner. I can ply a
tune.

MRS. L. Whose pianner?

L. AIDA. Mrs. Brahn's when she's gone aht.

MRS. L. Well, yu are gettin' edjucation! Du they tache yu to love
yore neighbours?

L. AIDA. [Ineffably] Nao. [Straying to the window] Mrs. Lemmy,
what's the moon?

MRS. L. The mune? Us used to zay 'twas made o' crame cheese.

L. AIDA. I can see it.

MRS. L. Ah! Don' yu never go wishin' for it, me dear.

L. AIDA. I daon't.

MRS. L. Folks as wish for the mune never du no gude.

L. AIDA. [Craning out, brilliant] I'm goin' dahn in the street.
I'll come back for yer trahsers.

MRS. L. Well; g