amily, limiting her expenditure to
her purse. And, truth to tell, Jones and the little Joneses look well
on it. But two things in addition to the rent test her managing powers.
Boots for the children! and coal for the winter! The latter difficulty
she gets over by paying one shilling per week into a coal club all the
year through. When Jones is in work she buys extra coal, but when the
winter comes she draws upon her reserves at the coal merchant's.

But the boots are more difficult. To his credit let it be said that
Jones mends the family's boots. That is, he can "sole and heel," though
he cannot put on a patch or mend the uppers. But with everlasting
thought for the future, Mrs. Jones makes certain of boots for the
family. Again a "club" is requisitioned, and by dint of rigid management
two shillings weekly pass into a shoemaker's hands, and in their turn
the family gets boots; the husband first, the children one by one,
herself last--or never!

Week by week she lives with no respite from anxiety, with no surcease
from toil. By and by the eldest boy is ready for work, and Mrs. Jones
looks forward to the few shillings he will bring home weekly, and builds
great things upon it. Alas! it is not all profit; the boy must have
a new suit, he requires more food, and he must have a little spending
money, "like other boys"; and though he is a good lad, she finds
ultimately that there is not much left of Tom's six shillings.

Never mind! on she goes, for will he not get a rise soon and again
expectation encourages her.

So the poor woman, hampered as she is with present cares, looks forward
to the time when life will be a bit easier, when the united earnings of
the children will make a substantial family income. Oh, brave woman! it
is well for her to live in hope, and every one who knows her hopes too
that disappointment will not await her, and that her many children will
"turn out well."

Mrs. Jones is typical of thousands of working men's wives, and such
women demand our admiration and respect. What matter though some of them
are a bit frowsy and not over-clean? they have precious little time
to attend to their personal adornment. I ask, who can fulfil all their
duties and remain "spick-and-span"?

"Nagging," did I hear some one say? My friend, put yourself in her
place, and imagine whether you would remain all sweetness and courtesy.
Again I say, that I cannot for the life of me understand how she can
bear it all, suf