me nearer he thought she looked paler than usual.

He hesitated what to do, but at last he slipped behind her, laid a hand
on her arm, and said: 'Mammy, what's the matter? Are you angry with me?'

She turned round quickly and jumped up with a cry of horror.

'What do you want, you hideous dwarf?' she cried; 'get away; I can't
bear such tricks.'

'But, mother dear, what's the matter with you?' repeated Jem, quite
frightened. 'You can't be well. Why do you want to drive your son away?'

'I have said already, get away,' replied Hannah, quite angrily. 'You
won't get anything out of me by your games, you monstrosity.'

'Oh dear, oh dear! she must be wandering in her mind,' murmured the lad
to himself. 'How can I manage to get her home? Dearest mother, do look
at me close. Can't you see I am your own son Jem?'

'Well, did you ever hear such impudence?' asked Hannah, turning to a
neighbour. 'Just see that frightful dwarf--would you believe that he
wants me to think he is my son Jem?'

Then all the market women came round and talked all together and scolded
as hard as they could, and said what a shame it was to make game of Mrs.
Hannah, who had never got over the loss of her beautiful boy, who had
been stolen from her seven years ago, and they threatened to fall upon
Jem and scratch him well if he did not go away at once.

Poor Jem did not know what to make of it all. He was sure he had gone
to market with his mother only that morning, had helped to set out the
stall, had gone to the old woman's house, where he had some soup and a
little nap, and now, when he came back, they were all talking of seven
years. And they called him a horrid dwarf! Why, what had happened to
him? When he found that his mother would really have nothing to do
with him he turned away with tears in his eyes, and went sadly down the
street towards his father's stall.

'Now I'll see whether he will know me,' thought he. 'I'll stand by the
door and talk to him.'

When he got to the stall he stood in the doorway and looked in. The
cobbler was so busy at work that he did not see him for some time, but,
happening to look up, he caught sight of his visitor, and letting shoes,
thread, and everything fall to the ground, he cried with horror: 'Good
heavens! what is that?'

'Good evening, master,' said the boy, as he stepped in. 'How do you do?'

'Very ill, little sir, replied the father, to Jem's surprise, for he did
not seem to know him. 'Business do