e found at the
end the child glowering at him with intense black eyes, and she
was sure to dart forward her little head, like a serpent, with
her biting:

"Go away."

"I'm not going away," he shouted, irritated at last.
"Go yourself--hustle--stir thysen--hop." And he
pointed to the door. The child backed away from him, pale with
fear. Then she gathered up courage, seeing him become
patient.

"We don't live with you," she said, thrusting forward
her little head at him. "You--you're--you're a
bomakle."

"A what?" he shouted.

Her voice wavered--but it came.

"A bomakle."

"Ay, an' you're a comakle."

She meditated. Then she hissed forwards her head.

"I'm not."

"Not what?"

"A comakle."

"No more am I a bomakle."

He was really cross.

Other times she would say:

"My mother doesn't live here."

"Oh, ay?"

"I want her to go away."

"Then want's your portion," he replied laconically.

So they drew nearer together. He would take her with him when
he went out in the trap. The horse ready at the gate, he came
noisily into the house, which seemed quiet and peaceful till he
appeared to set everything awake.

"Now then, Topsy, pop into thy bonnet."

The child drew herself up, resenting the indignity of the
address.

"I can't fasten my bonnet myself," she said haughtily.

"Not man enough yet," he said, tying the ribbons under her
chin with clumsy fingers.

She held up her face to him. Her little bright-red lips moved
as he fumbled under her chin.

"You talk--nonsents," she said, re-echoing one of his
phrases.

"That face shouts for th' pump," he said, and taking
out a big red handkerchief, that smelled of strong tobacco,
began wiping round her mouth.

"Is Kitty waiting for me?" she asked.

"Ay," he said. "Let's finish wiping your face--it'll
pass wi' a cat-lick."

She submitted prettily. Then, when he let her go, she began
to skip, with a curious flicking up of one leg behind her.

"Now my young buck-rabbit," he said. "Slippy!"

She came and was shaken into her coat, and the two set off.
She sat very close beside him in the gig, tucked tightly,
feeling his big body sway, against her, very splendid. She loved
the rocking of the gig, when his big, live body swayed upon her,
against her. She laughed, a poignant little shrill laugh, and
her black eyes glowed.

She was curiously hard, and then passionately tenderhearted.
Her mother was ill, the child stole about on tip-toe in the
b