meat, we are cannibals yet. We eat each other's lives."

Rightly considered, that's not a nasty thought. Nor a new one either.

7

New Year's Eve last night.... Tony did not go to sea. He announced that
he would turn over a new leaf, and be a gen'leman, and not do no work
no more. "Summut'll turn up," he said when I asked him how he was going
to feed his family. "Al'ays have done an' al'ays will, I s'pose. Thees
yer ol' fule 'll go on till he's clean worked out. Thee casn' die but
once, an' thee casn' help o'it nuther.

"Shut thee chatter an' bring in some wude," said Mrs Widger. "Now then
yu children, off yu goes! Up over, else my hand'll be 'longside o'ee!"

"Gude-night!" say the children in chorus. "Gude-night! Gude-night! See
yu t'morrow morning. Du us hae presents on New Year's Day, Mam?"

"Yu'll see. P'raps a cracker...."

"Coo'h...."

"Up over!"

"What 'tis tu be a family man," said Tony.

"Whu's fault's that?" Mam Widger retorted.

"There, me ol' stocking, don't thee worry a man! Gie us a kiss...."

"G'out!"

[Sidenote: _DREE-HA'P'ORTH_]

The Christmas decorations and the little spangled toys from the
children's crackers were still hanging from clothes-lines across the
kitchen. We piled wood on the fire; it had barnacle shells on it; with
the wreckage of good ships we warmed ourselves. Mam Widger laid the
supper. The steam from the kettles puffed merrily into the room.
Herrings were cooking in the oven. A faint odour--they were being
stewed in vinegar--stole out into the room to give us appetite and for
the moment a sense of plenty. Mrs Widger took a penny-ha'penny from the
household purse and handed it, together with a jug to Tony.
"Dree-ha'p'orth o' ale an' stout. Go on."

Tony returned with tupence-ha'p'orth. He had added a penny out of his
own pocket because he is ashamed to ask for less than a pint. Grannie
Pinn came in at the same time. "I got the t'other pen'orth for me
mither-in-law," said Tony.

"Chake again!" Grannie Pinn cried. "I wants more'n a pen'orth, I du."

Tony slipped off his boots just in time. It was I who had to fetch an
extra dree-ha'p'orth.

We supped with the uproariousness that Grannie Pinn always brings here.
Some other people dropped in to see how we were doing. Not staying to
clear the supper, we sang. The songs, as such, were indifferently good,
but we meant them and enjoyed them. For a while Grannie Pinn contented
herself with humming and nodding to the cho