hing in its way, but there's such a thing as being
too clever, and the last 'ouse-keeper young Alf picked died of old age
a week arter he 'ad gone to sea. She passed away while she was drawing
George Hatchard's supper beer, and he lost ten gallons o' the best
bitter ale and his 'ousekeeper at the same time.

It was four months arter that afore Alf came 'ome, and the fust sight of
the new 'ousekeeper, wot opened the door to 'im, upset 'im terrible. She
was the right side o' sixty to begin with, and only ordinary plain. Then
she was as clean as a new pin, and dressed up as though she was going
out to tea.

"Oh, you're Alfred, I s'pose?" she ses, looking at 'im.

"Mr. Simms is my name," ses young Alf, starting and drawing hisself up.

"I know you by your portrait," ses the 'ousekeeper. "Come in. 'Ave you
'ad a pleasant v'y'ge? Wipe your boots."

Alfred wiped 'is boots afore he thought of wot he was doing. Then he
drew hisself up stiff agin and marched into the parlor.

"Sit down," ses the 'ousekeeper, in a kind voice.

Alfred sat down afore he thought wot 'e was doing agin.

"I always like to see people comfortable," ses the 'ousekeeper; "it's
my way. It's warm weather for the time o' year, ain't it? George is
upstairs, but he'll be down in a minute."

"_Who?_" ses Alf, hardly able to believe his ears.

"George," ses the 'ousekeeper.

"George? George who?" ses Alfred, very severe.

"Why your uncle, of course," ses the 'ousekeeper. "Do you think I've got
a houseful of Georges?"

Young Alf sat staring at her and couldn't say a word. He noticed that
the room 'ad been altered, and that there was a big photygraph of her
stuck up on the mantelpiece. He sat there fidgeting with 'is feet--until
the 'ousekeeper looked at them--and then 'e got up and walked upstairs.

His uncle, wot was sitting on his bed when 'e went into the room and
pretended that he 'adn't heard 'im come in, shook hands with 'im as
though he'd never leave off.

"I've got something to tell you, Alf," he ses, arter they 'ad said "How
d'ye do?" and he 'ad talked about the weather until Alf was fair tired
of it.

"I've been and gone and done a foolish thing, and 'ow you'll take it I
don't know."

"Been and asked the new 'ousekeeper to marry you, I s'pose?" ses Alf,
looking at 'im very hard.

His uncle shook his 'ead. "I never asked 'er; I'd take my Davy I
didn't," he ses.

"Well, you ain't going to marry her, then?" ses Alf, brightening up.