" said Pinkey, bursting into
tears.

Mrs Partridge was disappointed in Chook. He was too much taken up with
that red-headed cat, and he ate nothing when he came to tea on Sunday,
although she ransacked the ham-and-beef shop for dainties--black
pudding, ham-and-chicken sausage, and brawn set in a mould of
appetizing jelly. She flattered herself she knew her position as
hostess and made up for William's sulks by loading the table with her
favourite delicacies. And Chook's healthy stomach recoiled in dismay
before these doubtful triumphs of the cookshop. His mother had been a
cook before she married, and, as a shoemaker believes in nothing but
leather, she pinned her faith to good cooking. The family might go
without clothes or boots, but they always had enough to eat. Chook's
powerful frame, she asserted, was due entirely to careful nourishment
in his youth. "Good meals keep people out of jail," was her favourite
remark. Chook had learned this instead of the catechism, and the sight
of Pinkey's starved body stirred his anger. What she wanted was proper
nourishment to cover her bones.

The next Sunday, while Pinkey was frying some odds and ends in the pan
to freshen them up for breakfast, Mrs Partridge, who was finishing a
novelette in bed, heard a determined knock on the door. It was only
eight o'clock. She called Pinkey, and ran to the window in surprise.
It was Chook, blushing as nearly as his face would permit, and carrying
two plates wrapped in a towel. He pushed through to the kitchen with
the remark "I'll just 'ot this up agin on the stove."

"But wot is it?" cried Pinkey, in astonishment.

Chook removed the upper plate, and showed a dish of sheep's brains,
fried with eggs and breadcrumbs--a thing to make the mouth water.

"Mother sent these; she thought yer might like somethin' tasty fer yer
breakfast," he muttered gruffly, in fear of ridicule.

Pinkey tried to laugh, but the tears welled into her eyes.

"Oh, Sarah will be pleased!" she cried.

"No, she won't," said Chook, grimly. "Wot yer can't eat goes back fer
the fowls."

While Mrs Partridge was dressing, they quarrelled fiercely, because
Chook swore she must eat the lot. Sarah ended the dispute by eating
half, but Chook watched jealously till Pinkey declared she could eat no
more.

The next Sunday it was a plate of fish fried in the Jewish fashion--a
revelation to Pinkey after the rancid fat of the fish shop--then a
prime cut off the