aces, and Mrs. Frith, picturing herself to Michael of less
ample girth, described wonderfully how her father had actually routed
for her with a broom-handle while her mother sat weeping into an apron.
Then it appeared that it was the custom of small boys in the street of
her youth to sell liquorice-water in exchange for pins.

"But was it nice?" asked Michael, remembering liquorice-powder.

"Lovely stuff," Mrs. Frith affirmed. "They used to go calling up and
down, 'Fine liquorice-water! Fine liquorice-water! Bring out your pins
and have a bottle of liquorice-water.'"

"And did you?" asked Michael.

"Did we? Of course we did--every pin in the place. There wasn't a pin in
the whole street after those boys had gone by."

"What else did you do when you were little, Mrs, Frith?"

"What else? Why everything."

"Yes, but tell me what," Michael begged, clasping his knees and looking
earnestly at Cook.

"Why once I went to a Sunday-school treat and got thrown off of a donkey
and showed more than I meant and the boys all hollered after me going to
Sunday-school and I used to stand behind a corner and dodge them. The
saucy demons!"

These tales were endless, and Michael thought how jolly it would be to
set out early one summer morning with Mrs. Frith and look for adventures
like Don Quixote. This became a favourite day-dream, and he used to
fancy Mrs. Frith tossed in a blanket like Sancho Panza. What company she
would be, and it would be possible with two donkeys. He had seen women
as fat as her riding on donkeys by the seaside.

One day Mrs. Frith told him she was thinking of getting married again,
and on a Sunday afternoon Michael was introduced to her future husband,
a certain Mr. Hopkins, who had a shining red head and an enormous
coloured handkerchief into which he trumpeted continuously. Mr. Hopkins
also had a daughter three or four years older than Michael--a wizened
little girl called Flossie who spoke in a sort of hiss and wore very
conspicuous underclothing of red flannelette. Michael and Flossie played
together shyly under the admiring patronage of Mrs. Frith and Mr.
Hopkins, and were just beginning to be friendly when Nurse came in and
said:

"Can't be allowed. No, no. Never heard of such a thing. Tut-tut."

After this Nurse and Mrs. Frith did not seem to get on very well, and
Mrs. Frith used to talk about 'people as gave theirselves airs which
they had no business to of done.' She was kinder than ever to