uickly turned around and facing them began his speech:

"Don't fear me, chil--" was all the further he got when the rosy cheeks
became as white as sheets and such scampering and rushing over one
another you never saw in all your life.

After that it was three whole days before a single one of them was bold
enough to come even in sight when he was bending over his work, and he
missed them so that he resolved never to attempt any conversation with
them again as long as he lived.

CHAPTER IV.

HARD TIMES

Things went on in this manner for some time. Then the hot summer was
over and the green leaves died and fell to the ground with a rustle. All
the children except the babies started to school. It became too cold to
play out-of-doors in the afternoon, and soon the days got so short that
there were no afternoons, and the children forgot it ever had been
summer at all.

If a body had not already known it, he would never have guessed that the
row of houses on one side of Jefferson Square contained twenty-eight
children toasting their toes by blazing fires.

We should say twenty-one, for the entire family of outcasts had moved
from the square to a more congenial neighbourhood, and Mrs. Paddy lost
the only friends she had. Instead of the bright faces smiling and
nodding to her every time they went in or out the front door, an ugly
white card, with "For Rent" in big black letters, stared at her all day,
reminding her sadly of the friends who were gone.

[Illustration: "ALL THE CHILDREN EXCEPT THE BABIES STARTED TO SCHOOL."]

Paddy noticed her looking a little forlorn one morning, so he said:

"The cold weather doesn't agree with you, Peggy; there's too much air
coming through the window cracks. I'll just move your chair away from
it, and as close to the fire as may be."

He had to leave her alone a great deal those days, for bread was high
and work scarce. To get either, a man had to start early so as to be
handy for any odd jobs that came his way.

Peggy was sometimes so lonely that she missed even the naughty children,
for in summer when they played on the common she could hear their young
voices and it was company for her. Now all she could see was a bare
brown waste with never a child in sight.

When Paddy was there bending over his ash heaps she didn't care, for
every little while he would look up from his work, and wave his hand,
and that was all she wanted.

Things got very desperate with the Paddy