ary me, but they
are a weary lot, these childre!"

"Why stand you not up to them better, Collet Pardue?" asked the
neighbour who was the listener to poor Collet's list of grievances.
"Can't you rouse yourself and see to them?"

"Seems to me, Mistress Hall, I've got no rouse left in me, wi' all these
troubles a-coming so thick," said poor Collet, shaking her head. "If
you'd six lads and four maids, and your man in prison for nought, and
the bucket down the well, and the chicken strayed, and your poor old
mother sick a-bed, and them pies in the oven a-burning this minute--Oh
me!"

Collet made a rush at the oven, having to push Charity Bradbridge out of
her way, who was staring open-mouthed at the brilliant parrot wrought in
floss silks on the exterior of Mrs Tabitha's large work-bag.

"I've told you twenty times, Collet Pardue, you lack method," pursued
Mrs Hall, with a magisterial air. "Why set you not Esdras to hunt the
chicken, and Noah to fish up the bucket, and Beatrice to wait on your
mother, and Penuel to see to the pies, and leave yourself freer? I make
my childre useful, I can tell you. The more children, the more to wait
on you."

"Well, Mistress Hall, I've always found it t'other way about--the more
childre, the more for you to wait on. Pen, she's ironing, and Beatie is
up wi' mother. But as to Esdras hunting up the chicks, why, he'd come
home wi' more holes than he's got, and that's five, as I know to my
cost; and set Noah to get up the bucket, he'd never do nought but send
his self a-flying after it down the well, and then I should have to fish
him up. 'Tis mighty good talking, when you've only three, and them all
maids; maids can be ruled by times; but them lads, they're that
cantankerous as-- There now, I might ha' known Noah was after some
mischief; he's never quiet but he is! Do 'ee look, how he's tangled my
blue yarn 'at I'd wound only last night--twisted it round every chair
and table in the place, and-- You wicked, sinful boy, to go and tangle
the poor cat along with 'em! I'll be after you, see if I'm not! You'll
catch some'at!"

"Got to catch me first!" said Noah, with a grin, darting out of the door
as his over-worried mother made a grab at him.

Poor Collet sat down and succumbed under her sufferings, throwing her
apron over her face for a good cry. Beatrice, who came down the ladder
which led to the upper chambers, took in the scene at a glance. She was
a bright little girl of