t 'em, who 'as? There's sweepin' an'
scrubbin' an' mats everywhere, mustn't smoke in the parlour unless you
'appen to be the chimney, and of course there's you, the biggest
'ome-comfort of all. Yes! Mrs. B.," he concluded, shaking his head
with gloomy conviction, "we got enough 'ome comforts to start a
colony, I'm always trippin' over 'em."

"Eat your pie," snapped Mrs. Bindle, "perhaps it'll stop your mouth."

Bindle applied himself to the apple-pie with obvious relish, glancing
from time to time at _The Gospel Sentinel_.

"Well?" demanded Mrs. Bindle once more.

"I was jest wonderin'," said Bindle.

"What about?"

"I was jest wonderin'," continued Bindle, "why we want a lodger, us
like two love-birds a-singin' an' a-cooin' all day long."

"What about the housekeeping?" demanded Mrs. Bindle aggressively.

"The 'ousekeepin'?" enquired Bindle innocently.

"Yes, the housekeeping," repeated Mrs. Bindle with rising wrath, as if
Bindle were directly responsible, "the housekeeping, I said, and food
going up like--like----"

"'Ell," suggested Bindle helpfully.

"How am I to make both ends meet?" she demanded.

"I suppose they must meet?" he enquired tentatively.

"Don't be a fool, Bindle!" was the response.

"I ain't goin' to be a fool with that there lodger 'angin' about,"
retorted Bindle. "If 'e starts a-playin' about wi' my 'Ome Comfort,
'e'll find 'is jaw closed for alterations. I'm a desperate feller
where my 'eart's concerned. There was poor 'ole 'Orace only the other
day. Jest back from the front 'e was."

Bindle paused and shook his head mournfully.

"Horace who?" demanded Mrs. Bindle.

"'Orace Gaze," replied Bindle. "Nice cove too, 'e is.

"''Ullo! 'Orace,' I calls out, when I see 'im jest a-comin' from the
station with all 'is kit.

"'Cheerio,' says 'e.

"'The missis'll be glad to see you,' I says.

"'She don't know I'm 'ere yet,' 'e says.

"'Didn't you send 'er a telegram?' I asks.

"'Telegram!' says 'e, 'not 'arf.'

"'Why not?'

"'Lord! ain't you a mug, Joe!' says 'e; 'you don't catch me a-trustin'
women, I got my own way, I 'ave,' says 'e, mysterious like.

"'What is it?' I asks 'im.

"'Well, I goes 'ome,' says 'e, ''er thinkin' me at the front, rattles
my key in the front door, then I nips round to the back, an' catches
the blighter every time!'"

"I won't listen to your disgusting stories," said Mrs. Bindle angrily.

"Disgustin'?" said Bindle incredulously.

"You've a lewd