a cup o' tea. Judging by her face anybody might ha' thought I was
telling 'er something funny, and, when I 'ad finished, she looks up at
the ceiling and ses:

"I 'ope it'll be a lesson to you," she ses.

FAMILY CARES

Mr. Jernshaw, who was taking the opportunity of a lull in business to
weigh out pound packets of sugar, knocked his hands together and stood
waiting for the order of the tall bronzed man who had just entered the
shop--a well-built man of about forty--who was regarding him with blue
eyes set in quizzical wrinkles.

"What, Harry!" exclaimed Mr. Jernshaw, in response to the wrinkles.
"Harry Barrett!"

"That's me," said the other, extending his hand. "The rolling stone come
home covered with moss."

Mr. Jernshaw, somewhat excited, shook hands, and led the way into the
little parlour behind the shop.

"Fifteen years," said Mr. Barrett, sinking into a chair, "and the old
place hasn't altered a bit."

"Smithson told me he had let that house in Webb Street to a Barrett,"
said the grocer, regarding him, "but I never thought of you. I suppose
you've done well, then?"

Mr. Barrett nodded. "Can't grumble," he said modestly. "I've got enough
to live on. Melbourne's all right, but I thought I'd come home for the
evening of my life."

"Evening!" repeated his friend. "Forty-three," said Mr. Barrett,
gravely. "I'm getting on."

"You haven't changed much," said the grocer, passing his hand through his
spare grey whiskers. "Wait till you have a wife and seven youngsters.
Why, boots alone----"

Mr. Barrett uttered a groan intended for sympathy. "Perhaps you could
help me with the furnishing," he said, slowly. "I've never had a place
of my own before, and I don't know much about it."

"Anything I can do," said his friend. "Better not get much yet; you
might marry, and my taste mightn't be hers."

Mr. Barrett laughed. "I'm not marrying," he said, with conviction.

"Seen anything of Miss Prentice yet?" inquired Mr. Jernshaw.

"No," said the other, with a slight flush. "Why?"

"She's still single," said the grocer.

"What of it?" demanded Mr. Barrett, with warmth. "What of it?"

"Nothing," said Mr. Jernshaw, slowly. "Nothing; only I----"

"Well?" said the other, as he paused.

"I--there was an idea that you went to Australia to--to better your
condition," murmured the grocer. "That--that you were not in a position
to marry--that----"

"Boy and girl nonsense," said Mr. Barrett,