ys waste with
children," she explained, "and I got five. You can't think the load off
one's shoulders when they're packed to school at nine o'clock.
And that, I dessay," she wound up lucidly, "is what softened me t'ards
you. Do you go to school, now?"

"Never did," answered Tilda, taking the plate and laying it before
Godolphus, who fell-to voraciously.

"I 'd like to tell that to the attendance officer," said Mrs. Damper in
a wistful tone. "But p'r'aps it might get you into trouble?"

"You 're welcome."

"He do give me a lot of worry; and it don't make things easier Damper's
threatenin' to knock his 'ead off if ever he catches the man darkenin'
our door. Never been to school, aven't you? I 'd like to tell 'im, and
that, if there's a law, it ought to be the same for all. But all my
children are 'ealthy, and that's one consolation."

"'Ealth's the first thing in life," agreed Tilda. "So they've all
cleared out?--the shows, I mean."

"Every one--exceptin' the Theayter."

"Mortimer's?" Tilda limped to the open door. "But I don't see him,
neither."

"Mortimer's is up the spout. First of all, there was trouble with the
lodgings; and on top of that, last Monday, Mr. Hucks put the bailiffs
in. This mornin' he sent half a dozen men, and they took the show to
pieces and carried it off to Hucks's yard, where I hear he means to sell
it by public auction."

"Who's Mr. Hucks?"

"He's the man that farms the Plain here--farms it _out_, I mean," Mrs.
Damper explained. "He leases the ground from the Corporation and lets
it out for what he can make, and that's a pretty penny. Terrible
close-fisted man is Mr. Hucks."

"Oh!" said Tilda, enlightened. "When you talked of farmin', you made me
wonder . . .So they're all gone? And Wolverhampton-way, I reckon.
That was to be the next move."

"I've often seen myself travellin' in a caravan," said Mrs. Damper
dreamily. "Here to-day an' gone to-morrow, and only to stretch out your
hand whether 'tis hairpins or a fryin'-pan; though I should never get
over travellin' on Sundays." Here, while her eyes rested on the child,
of a sudden she came out of her reverie with a sharp exclamation.
"Lord's sake! You ain't goin' to tell me they've left you in 'ospital,
stranded!"

"That's about it," said Tilda bravely, albeit with a wry little twist of
her mouth.

"But what'll you do?"

"Oh, I dunno . . . We'll get along some'ow--eh, 'Dolph? Fact is, I got
a job to do, an' n