ThenhecaughtsightoftheHighlandbonnetwithitsribbons。
Hepickeditupgleefully，forgettingher。Shewentout。
WhenhewasnineteenhesuddenlylefttheCo-op。officeandgot，asituationinNottingham。Inhisnewplacehehadthirtyshillings，aweekinsteadofeighteen。Thiswasindeedarise。Hismotherand，hisfatherwerebrimmedupwithpride。EverybodypraisedWilliam。
Itseemedhewasgoingtogetonrapidly。Mrs。Morelhoped，withhisaid，tohelpheryoungersons。Anniewasnowstudying，tobeateacher。Paul，alsoveryclever，wasgettingonwell，havinglessonsinFrenchandGermanfromhisgodfather，theclergyman，whowasstillafriendtoMrs。Morel。Arthur，aspoiltandvery，good-lookingboy，wasattheBoardschool，buttherewastalk，ofhistryingtogetascholarshipfortheHighSchoolinNottingham。
WilliamremainedayearathisnewpostinNottingham。
Hewasstudyinghard，andgrowingserious。Somethingseemedtobe，frettinghim。Stillhewentouttothedancesandtheriverparties。
Hedidnotdrink。Thechildrenwereallrabidteetotallers。
Hecamehomeverylateatnight，andsatyetlongerstudying。
Hismotherimploredhimtotakemorecare，todoonething，oranother。
“Dance，ifyouwanttodance，myson;butdon’tthinkyoucan，workintheoffice，andthenamuseyourself，andTHEN
studyontopofall。Youcan’t;thehumanframewon’t，standit。Doonethingortheother——amuseyourselforlearnLatin;
butdon’ttrytodoboth。”
ThenhegotaplaceinLondon，atahundredandtwentyayear。
Thisseemedafabuloussum。Hismotherdoubtedalmostwhetherto，rejoiceortogrieve。
“TheywantmeinLimeStreetonMondayweek，mother，“hecried，hiseyesblazingashereadtheletter。Mrs。Morelfelteverything，gosilentinsideher。Hereadtheletter：，“’Andwillyoureply，byThursdaywhetheryouaccept。Yoursfaithfully——’，Theywantme，mother，atahundredandtwentyayear，anddon’tevenasktoseeme。
Didn’tItellyouIcoulddoit！，ThinkofmeinLondon！，AndI
cangiveyoutwentypoundsayear，mater。Wes’llallberolling，inmoney。”
“Weshall，myson，“sheansweredsadly。
Itneveroccurredtohimthatshemightbemorehurtathisgoing，awaythangladofhissuccess。Indeed，asthedaysdrewnearfor，hisdeparture，herheartbegantocloseandgrowdrearywithdespair。
Shelovedhimsomuch！，Morethanthat，shehopedinhimsomuch。
Almostshelivedbyhim。Shelikedtodothingsforhim：，sheliked，toputacupforhisteaandtoironhiscollars，ofwhichhewas，soproud。Itwasajoytohertohavehimproudofhiscollars。
Therewasnolaundry。Sosheusedtorubawayatthemwithherlittle，convexiron，topolishthem，tilltheyshonefromthesheerpressure，ofherarm。Nowshewouldnotdoitforhim。Nowhewasgoingaway。
Shefeltalmostasifheweregoingaswelloutofherheart。
Hedidnotseemtoleaveherinhabitedwithhimself。Thatwasthegrief，andthepaintoher。Hetooknearlyallhimselfaway。
Afewdaysbeforehisdeparture——hewasjusttwenty——heburnedhis，love-letters。Theyhadhungonafileatthetopofthekitchencupboard。
Fromsomeofthemhehadreadextractstohismother。Someofthem，shehadtakenthetroubletoreadherself。Butmostweretootrivial。
Now，ontheSaturdaymorninghesaid：
“Comeon，Postle，let’sgothroughmyletters，andyoucan，havethebirdsandflowers。”
Mrs。MorelhaddoneherSaturday’sworkontheFriday，becausehewashavingalastday’sholiday。Shewasmakinghim，aricecake，whichheloved，totakewithhim。Hewasscarcely，consciousthatshewassomiserable。
Hetookthefirstletteroffthefile。Itwasmauve-tinted，andhadpurpleandgreenthistles。Williamsniffedthepage。
“Nicescent！，Smell。”
AndhethrustthesheetunderPaul’snose。
“Um！”saidPaul，breathingin。”Whatd’youcallit？，Smell，mother。”
Hismotherduckedhersmall，finenosedowntothepaper。
“Idon’twanttosmelltheirrubbish，“shesaid，sniffing。
“Thisgirl’sfather，“saidWilliam，“isasrichasCroesus。
Heownspropertywithoutend。ShecallsmeLafayette，becauseI
knowFrench。’Youwillsee，I’veforgivenyou’——IlikeHERforgivingme。
’Itoldmotheraboutyouthismorning，andshewillhavemuch，pleasureifyoucometoteaonSunday，butshewillhavetoget，father’sconsentalso。Isincerelyhopehewillagree。Iwilllet，youknowhowittranspires。If，however，you——’“
“’Letyouknowhowit’what？”interruptedMrs。Morel。
“’Transpires’——ohyes！”
“’Transpires！’“repeatedMrs。Morelmockingly。”Ithought，shewassowelleducated！”
Williamfeltslightlyuncomfortable，andabandonedthismaiden，givingPaulthecornerwiththethistles。Hecontinuedtoread，extractsfromhisletters，someofwhichamusedhismother，someofwhichsaddenedherandmadeheranxiousforhim。
“Mylad，“shesaid，“they’reverywise。Theyknowthey’ve，onlygottoflatteryourvanity，andyoupressuptothemlike，adogthathasitsheadscratched。”
“Well，theycan’tgoonscratchingforever，“hereplied。
“Andwhenthey’vedone，Itrotaway。”
“Butonedayyou’llfindastringroundyourneckthatyou，can’tpulloff，“sheanswered。
“Notme！，I’mequaltoanyof’em，mater，theyneedn’t，flatterthemselves。”
“YouflatterYOURSELF，“shesaidquietly。
Soontherewasaheapoftwistedblackpages，allthatremained，ofthefileofscentedletters，exceptthatPaulhadthirtyor，fortyprettyticketsfromthecornersofthenotepaper——swallows，andforget-me-notsandivysprays。AndWilliamwenttoLondon，tostartanewlife。
CHAPTERIV
THEYOUNGLIFEOFPAUL
PAULwouldbebuiltlikehismother，slightlyandrathersmall。
Hisfairhairwentreddish，andthendarkbrown;hiseyesweregrey。
Hewasapale，quietchild，witheyesthatseemedtolisten，andwith，afull，droppingunderlip。
Asaruleheseemedoldforhisyears。Hewassoconscious，ofwhatotherpeoplefelt，particularlyhismother。Whenshe，frettedheunderstood，andcouldhavenopeace。Hissoulseemed，alwaysattentivetoher。
Ashegrewolderhebecamestronger。Williamwastoofar，removedfromhimtoaccepthimasacompanion。Sothesmallerboy，belongedatfirstalmostentirelytoAnnie。Shewasatomboyanda，“flybie-skybie“ashermothercalledher。Butshewasintensely，fondofhersecondbrother。SoPaulwastowedroundattheheels，ofAnnie，sharinghergame。Sheracedwildlyatlerkywiththeother，youngwild-catsoftheBottoms。AndalwaysPaulflewbesideher，livinghershareofthegame，havingasyetnopartofhisown。
Hewasquietandnotnoticeable。Buthissisteradoredhim。
Healwaysseemedtocareforthingsifshewantedhimto。
Shehadabigdollofwhichshewasfearfullyproud，thoughnot，sofond。Soshelaidthedollonthesofa，andcovereditwith，anantimacassar，tosleep。Thensheforgotit。MeantimePaul，mustpractisejumpingoffthesofaarm。Sohejumpedcrashinto，thefaceofthehiddendoll。Annierushedup，utteredaloudwail，andsatdowntoweepadirge。Paulremainedquitestill。
“Youcouldn’ttellitwasthere，mother;youcouldn’ttellit，wasthere，“herepeatedoverandover。SolongasAnnieweptfor，thedollhesathelplesswithmisery。Hergriefworeitselfout。
Sheforgaveherbrother——hewassomuchupset。Butadayortwo，afterwardsshewasshocked。
“Let’smakeasacrificeofArabella，“hesaid。”Let’sburnher。”
Shewashorrified，yetratherfascinated。Shewantedtosee，whattheboywoulddo。Hemadeanaltarofbricks，pulledsomeof，theshavingsoutofArabella’sbody，putthewaxenfragmentsinto，thehollowface，pouredonalittleparaffin，andsetthewholething，alight。Hewatchedwithwickedsatisfactionthedropsofwaxmeltoff，thebrokenforeheadofArabella，anddroplikesweatintotheflame。
Solongasthestupidbigdollburnedherejoicedinsilence。
Attheendbepokedamongtheemberswithastick，fishedoutthearms，andlegs，allblackened，andsmashedthemunderstones。
“That’sthesacrificeofMissisArabella，“hesaid。”An’I’m，gladthere’snothingleftofher。”
WhichdisturbedAnnieinwardly，althoughshecouldsaynothing。
Heseemedtohatethedollsointensely，becausehehadbrokenit。
Allthechildren，butparticularlyPaul，werepeculiarly，againsttheirfather，alongwiththeirmother。Morelcontinued，tobullyandtodrink。Hehadperiods，monthsatatime，whenhe，madethewholelifeofthefamilyamisery。Paulneverforgot，cominghomefromtheBandofHopeoneMondayeveningandfinding，hismotherwithhereyeswollenanddiscoloured，hisfatherstanding，onthehearthrug，feetastride，hisheaddown，andWilliam，justhomefromwork，glaringathisfather。Therewasasilence，astheyoungchildrenentered，butnoneoftheelderslookedround。
Williamwaswhitetothelips，andhisfistswereclenched。
Hewaiteduntilthechildrenweresilent，watchingwithchildren’s，rageandhate;thenhesaid：
“Youcoward，youdaren’tdoitwhenIwasin。”
ButMorel’sbloodwasup。Heswungroundonhisson。
Williamwasbigger，butMorelwashard-muscled，andmadwithfury。
“Dossn’tI？”heshouted。”Dossn’tI？，Ha’emuchmoreo’
thychelp，myyoungjockey，an’I’llrattlemyfistaboutthee。
Ay，an’Ishollthat，dostsee？”
Morelcrouchedatthekneesandshowedhisfistinanugly，almostbeast-likefashion。Williamwaswhitewithrage。
“Willyer？”hesaid，quietandintense。”It’udbethe，lasttime，though。”
Moreldancedalittlenearer，crouching，drawingbackhisfist，tostrike。Williamputhisfistsready。Alightcameintohis，blueeyes，almostlikealaugh。Hewatchedhisfather。Anotherword，andthemenwouldhavebeguntofight。Paulhopedtheywould。
Thethreechildrensatpaleonthesofa。
“Stopit，bothofyou，“criedMrs。Morelinahardvoice。
“We’vehadenoughforONEnight。AndYOU，“
shesaid，turningontoherhusband，“lookatyourchildren！”
Morelglancedatthesofa。
“Lookatthechildren，younastylittlebitch！”hesneered。
“Why，whathaveIdonetothechildren，Ishouldliketoknow？
Butthey’relikeyourself;you’veput’emuptoyourowntricksand，nastyways——you’velearned’eminit，you’ave。”
Sherefusedtoanswerhim。Noonespoke。Afterawhilehe，threwhisbootsunderthetableandwenttobed。
“Whydidn’tyouletmehaveagoathim？”saidWilliam，whenhisfatherwasupstairs。”Icouldeasilyhavebeatenhim。”
“Anicething——yourownfather，“shereplied。
“’FATHER！’“repeatedWilliam。”CallHIMMYfather！”
“Well，heis——andso——“
“Butwhydon’tyouletmesettlehim？，Icoulddo，easily。”
“Theidea！”shecried。”Ithasn’tcometoTHATyet。”
“No，“hesaid，“it’scometoworse。Lookatyourself。
WHYdidn’tyouletmegiveithim？”
“BecauseIcouldn’tbearit，soneverthinkofit，“
shecriedquickly。
Andthechildrenwenttobed，miserably。
WhenWilliamwasgrowingup，thefamilymovedfromtheBottoms，toahouseonthebrowofthehill，commandingaviewofthevalley，whichspreadoutlikeaconvexcockle-shell，oraclamp-shell，beforeit。
Infrontofthehousewasahugeoldash-tree。Thewestwind，sweepingfromDerbyshire，caughtthehouseswithfullforce，andthetreeshriekedagain。Morellikedit。
“It’smusic，“hesaid。”Itsendsmetosleep。”
ButPaulandArthurandAnniehatedit。ToPaulitbecame，almostademoniacalnoise。Thewinteroftheirfirstyear，inthenewhousetheirfatherwasverybad。Thechildrenplayed，inthestreet，onthebrimofthewide，darkvalley，untileight，o’clock。Thentheywenttobed。Theirmothersatsewingbelow。
Havingsuchagreatspaceinfrontofthehousegavethechildren，afeelingofnight，ofvastness，andofterror。Thisterrorcame，infromtheshriekingofthetreeandtheanguishofthehomediscord。
OftenPaulwouldwakeup，afterhehadbeenasleepalongtime，awareofthudsdownstairs。Instantlyhewaswideawake。Thenhe，heardtheboomingshoutsofhisfather，comehomenearlydrunk，thenthe，sharprepliesofhismother，thenthebang，bangofhisfather’sfiston，thetable，andthenastysnarlingshoutastheman’svoicegothigher。
Andthenthewholewasdrownedinapiercingmedleyofshrieks，andcriesfromthegreat，wind-sweptash-tree。Thechildren，laysilentinsuspense，waitingforalullinthewindtohear，whattheirfatherwasdoing。Hemighthittheirmotheragain。
Therewasafeelingofhorror，akindofbristlinginthedarkness，andasenseofblood。Theylaywiththeirheartsinthegripofan，intenseanguish。Thewindcamethroughthetreefiercerandfiercer。
Allthechordsofthegreatharphummed，whistled，andshrieked。
Andthencamethehorrorofthesuddensilence，silenceeverywhere，outsideanddownstairs。Whatwasit？，Wasitasilenceofblood？
Whathadhedone？
Thechildrenlayandbreathedthedarkness。Andthen，atlast，theyheardtheirfatherthrowdownhisbootsandtrampupstairs，inhisstockingedfeet。Stilltheylistened。Thenatlast，ifthewindallowed，theyheardthewaterofthetapdrumminginto，thekettle，whichtheirmotherwasfillingformorning，andthey，couldgotosleepinpeace。
Sotheywerehappyinthemorning——happy，veryhappyplaying，dancingatnightroundthelonelylamp-postinthemidstof，thedarkness。Buttheyhadonetightplaceofanxietyintheirhearts，onedarknessintheireyes，whichshowedalltheirlives。
Paulhatedhisfather。Asaboyhehadaferventprivatereligion。
“Makehimstopdrinking，“heprayedeverynight。”Lord，letmy，fatherdie，“heprayedveryoften。”Lethimnotbekilledatpit，“
heprayedwhen，aftertea，thefatherdidnotcomehomefromwork。
Thatwasanothertimewhenthefamilysufferedintensely。
Thechildrencamefromschoolandhadtheirteas。Onthehob，thebigblacksaucepanwassimmering，thestew-jarwasintheoven，readyforMorel’sdinner。Hewasexpectedatfiveo’clock。Butfor，monthshewouldstopanddrinkeverynightonhiswayfromwork。
Inthewinternights，whenitwascold，andgrewdarkearly，Mrs。Morelwouldputabrasscandlestickonthetable，lighta，tallowcandletosavethegas。Thechildrenfinishedtheir，bread-and-butter，ordripping，andwerereadytogoouttoplay。
ButifMorelhadnotcometheyfaltered。Thesenseofhissitting，inallhispit-dirt，drinking，afteralongday’swork，notcoming，homeandeatingandwashing，butsitting，gettingdrunk，onanemptystomach，madeMrs。Morelunabletobearherself。Fromherthefeelingwas，transmittedtotheotherchildren。Sheneversufferedaloneanymore：
thechildrensufferedwithher。
Paulwentouttoplaywiththerest。Downinthegreattrough，oftwilight，tinyclustersoflightsburnedwherethepitswere。
Afewlastcolliersstraggledupthedimfieldpath。Thelamplighter，camealong。Nomorecollierscame。Darknessshutdownoverthevalley;
workwasdone。Itwasnight。
ThenPaulrananxiouslyintothekitchen。Theonecandlestill，burnedonthetable，thebigfireglowedred。Mrs。Morelsatalone。
Onthehobthesaucepansteamed;thedinner-platelaywaiting，onthetable。Alltheroomwasfullofthesenseofwaiting，waitingforthemanwhowassittinginhispit-dirt，dinnerless，somemileawayfromhome，acrossthedarkness，drinkinghimselfdrunk。
Paulstoodinthedoorway。
“Hasmydadcome？”heasked。
“Youcanseehehasn’t，“saidMrs。Morel，crosswiththe，futilityofthequestion。
Thentheboydawdledaboutnearhismother。Theyshared，thesameanxiety。PresentlyMrs。Morelwentoutandstrained，thepotatoes。
“They’reruinedandblack，“shesaid;“butwhatdoIcare？”
Notmanywordswerespoken。Paulalmosthatedhismother，forsufferingbecausehisfatherdidnotcomehomefromwork。
“Whatdoyoubotheryourselffor？”hesaid。”Ifhewants，tostopandgetdrunk，whydon’tyoulethim？”
“Lethim！”flashedMrs。Morel。”Youmaywellsay’lethim’。”
Sheknewthatthemanwhostopsonthewayhomefromworkisona，quickwaytoruininghimselfandhishome。Thechildrenwereyetyoung，anddependedonthebreadwinner。Williamgaveherthesenseofrelief，providingheratlastwithsomeonetoturntoifMorelfailed。But，thetenseatmosphereoftheroomonthesewaitingeveningswasthesame。
Theminutestickedaway。Atsixo’clockstilltheclothlay，onthetable，stillthedinnerstoodwaiting，stillthesamesense，ofanxietyandexpectationintheroom。Theboycouldnotstandit，anylonger。Hecouldnotgooutandplay。SoheranintoMrs。Inger，nextdoorbutone，forhertotalktohim。Shehadnochildren。
Herhusbandwasgoodtoherbutwasinashop，andcamehomelate。
So，whenshesawtheladatthedoor，shecalled：
“Comein，Paul。”
Thetwosattalkingforsometime，whensuddenly，theboyrose，saying：
“Well，I’llbegoingandseeingifmymotherwantsanerranddoing。”
Hepretendedtobeperfectlycheerful，anddidnottellhis，friendwhatailedhim。Thenheranindoors。
Morelatthesetimescameinchurlishandhateful。
“Thisisanicetimetocomehome，“saidMrs。Morel。
“Wha’sitmattertoyo’whattimeIcomewhoam？”heshouted。
Andeverybodyinthehousewasstill，becausehewasdangerous。
Heatehisfoodinthemostbrutalmannerpossible，and，whenhe，haddone，pushedallthepotsinaheapawayfromhim，tolayhis，armsonthetable。Thenhewenttosleep。
Paulhatedhisfatherso。Thecollier’ssmall，meanhead，withitsblackhairslightlysoiledwithgrey，layonthebarearms，andtheface，dirtyandinflamed，withafleshynoseandthin，paltrybrows，wasturnedsideways，asleepwithbeerandweariness，andnastytemper。Ifanyoneenteredsuddenly，oranoiseweremade，themanlookedupandshouted：
“I’lllaymyfistaboutthyy’ead，I’mtellin’thee，iftha，doesnastopthatclatter！，Dosthear？”
Andthetwolastwords，shoutedinabullyingfashion，usuallyatAnnie，madethefamilywrithewithhateoftheman。
Hewasshutoutfromallfamilyaffairs。Noonetoldhimanything。
Thechildren，alonewiththeirmother，toldherallaboutthe，day’shappenings，everything。Nothinghadreallytakenplacein，themuntilitwastoldtotheirmother。Butassoonasthefather，camein，everythingstopped。Hewaslikethescotchinthesmooth，happymachineryofthehome。Andhewasalwaysawareofthisfall，ofsilenceonhisentry，theshuttingoffoflife，theunwelcome。
Butnowitwasgonetoofartoalter。
Hewoulddearlyhavelikedthechildrentotalktohim，buttheycouldnot。SometimesMrs。Morelwouldsay：
“Yououghttotellyourfather。”
Paulwonaprizeinacompetitioninachild’spaper。
Everybodywashighlyjubilant。
“Nowyou’dbettertellyourfatherwhenbecomesin，“
saidMrs。Morel。”Youknowhowbecarriesonandsayshe’snever，toldanything。”
“Allright，“saidPaul。Buthewouldalmostratherhave，forfeitedtheprizethanhavetotellhisfather。
“I’vewonaprizeinacompetition，dad，“hesaid。
Morelturnedroundtohim。
“Haveyou，myboy？，Whatsortofacompetition？”
“Oh，nothing——aboutfamouswomen。”
“Andhowmuchistheprize，then，asyou’vegot？”
“It’sabook。”
“Oh，indeed！“
“Aboutbirds。”
“Hm——hm！“
Andthatwasall。Conversationwasimpossiblebetweenthe，fatherandanyothermemberofthefamily。Hewasanoutsider。
HehaddeniedtheGodinhim。
Theonlytimeswhenheenteredagainintothelifeofhisownpeople，waswhenheworked，andwashappyatwork。Sometimes，intheevening，hecobbledthebootsormendedthekettleorhispit-bottle。Then，healwayswantedseveralattendants，andthechildrenenjoyedit。
Theyunitedwithhiminthework，intheactualdoingofsomething，whenhewashisrealselfagain。
Hewasagoodworkman，dexterous，andonewho，whenhewasina，goodhumour，alwayssang。Hehadwholeperiods，months，almostyears，offrictionandnastytemper。Thensometimeshewasjollyagain。
Itwasnicetoseehimrunwithapieceofred-hotironinto，thescullery，crying：
“Outofmyroad——outofmyroad！”
Thenhehammeredthesoft，red-glowingstuffonhisirongoose，andmadetheshapehewanted。Orhesatabsorbedforamoment，soldering。Thenthechildrenwatchedwithjoyasthemetalsank，suddenlymolten，andwasshovedaboutagainstthenoseofthe，soldering-iron，whiletheroomwasfullofascentofburntresin，andhottin，andMorelwassilentandintentforaminute。Healways，sangwhenhemendedbootsbecauseofthejollysoundofhammering。
Andhewasratherhappywhenhesatputtinggreatpatchesonhis，moleskinpittrousers，whichhewouldoftendo，consideringthem，toodirty，andthestufftoohard，forhiswifetomend。
Butthebesttimefortheyoungchildrenwaswhenhemadefuses。
Morelfetchedasheafoflongsoundwheat-strawsfromtheattic。
Thesehecleanedwithhishand，tilleachonegleamedlikea，stalkofgold，afterwhichhecutthestrawsintolengthsof，aboutsixinches，leaving，ifhecould，anotchatthebottom，ofeachpiece。Healwayshadabeautifullysharpknifethatcould，cutastrawcleanwithouthurtingit。Thenhesetinthemiddle，ofthetableaheapofgunpowder，alittlepileofblackgrains，uponthewhite-scrubbedboard。Hemadeandtrimmedthestraws，whilePaulandAnnierifledandpluggedthem。Paullovedtosee，theblackgrainstrickledownacrackinhispalmintothemouth，ofthestraw，pepperingjollilydownwardstillthestrawwasfull。
Thenhebungedupthemouthwithabitofsoap——whichhegoton，histhumb-nailfromapatinasaucer——andthestrawwasfinished。
“Look，dad！”hesaid。
“That’sright，mybeauty，“repliedMorel，whowaspeculiarly，lavishofendearmentstohissecondson。Paulpoppedthefuseinto，thepowder-tin，readyforthemorning，whenMorelwouldtakeit，tothepit，anduseittofireashotthatwouldblastthecoaldown。
MeantimeArthur，stillfondofhisfather，wouldlean，onthearmofMorel’schairandsay：
“Tellusaboutdownpit，daddy。”
ThisMorellovedtodo。
“Well，there’sonelittle’oss——wecall’imTaffy，“hewouldbegin。
“An’he’safawce’un！”
Morelhadawarmwayoftellingastory。Hemadeonefeel，Taffy’scunning。
“He’sabrown’un，“hewouldanswer，“an’notveryhigh。
Well，hecomesi’th’stallwi’arattle，an’thenyo’’ear’imsneeze。
“’Ello，Taff，’yousay，’whatartsneezin’for？，Binta’ein’
somesnuff？’
“An’’esneezesagain。Thenheslivesupan’shoves’is’ead，onyer，thatcadin’。
“’What’swant，Taff？’yo’say。”
“Andwhatdoeshe？”Arthuralwaysasked。
“Hewantsabito’bacca，myduckie。”
ThisstoryofTaffywouldgooninterminably，andeverybody，lovedit。
Orsometimesitwasanewtale。
“An’whatdostthink，mydarlin’？WhenIwenttoputmycoat，onatsnap-time，whatshouldgorunnin’upmyarmbutamouse。
“’Heyup，theer！’，Ishouts。
“An’Iworjustintimeterget’imbyth’tail。”
“Anddidyoukillit？”
“Idid，forthey’reanuisance。Theplaceisfairsniedwi’’em。”
“An’whatdotheyliveon？”
“Thecornasthe’ossesdrops——an’they’llgetinyourpocketan’
eatyoursnap，ifyou’lllet’em——nomatterwhereyo’hingyourcoat——
theslivin’，nibblin’littlenuisances，fortheyare。”
ThesehappyeveningscouldnottakeplaceunlessMorel，hadsomejobtodo。Andthenhealwayswenttobedveryearly，oftenbeforethechildren。Therewasnothingremainingforhim，tostayupfor，whenhehadfinishedtinkering，andhadskimmed，theheadlinesofthenewspaper。
Andthechildrenfeltsecurewhentheirfatherwasinbed。
Theylayandtalkedsoftlyawhile。Thentheystartedasthelights，wentsuddenlysprawlingovertheceilingfromthelampsthatswung，inthehandsofthecollierstrampingbyoutside，goingtotake，thenineo’clockshift。Theylistenedtothevoicesofthemen，imaginedthemdippingdownintothedarkvalley。Sometimesthey，wenttothewindowandwatchedthethreeorfourlampsgrowing，tinierandtinier，swayingdownthefieldsinthedarkness。
Thenitwasajoytorushbacktobedandcuddlecloselyin，thewarmth。
Paulwasratheradelicateboy，subjecttobronchitis。
Theotherswereallquitestrong;sothiswasanotherreason，forhismother’sdifferenceinfeelingforhim。Onedayhecame，homeatdinner-timefeelingill。Butitwasnotafamilytomake，anyfuss。
“What’sthematterwithYOU？”hismotheraskedsharply。
“Nothing，“hereplied。
Butheatenodinner。
“Ifyoueatnodinner，you’renotgoingtoschool，“shesaid。
“Why？”heasked。
“That’swhy。”
Soafterdinnerhelaydownonthesofa，onthewarmchintz，cushionsthechildrenloved。Thenhefellintoakindofdoze。
ThatafternoonMrs。Morelwasironing。Shelistenedtothesmall，restlessnoisetheboymadeinhisthroatassheworked。Againrose，inherhearttheold，almostwearyfeelingtowardshim。Shehad，neverexpectedhimtolive。Andyethehadagreatvitalityinhisyoungbody。
Perhapsitwouldhavebeenalittlerelieftoherifhehaddied。
Shealwaysfeltamixtureofanguishinherloveforhim。
He，inhissemi-conscioussleep，wasvaguelyawareof，theclatteroftheironontheiron-stand，ofthefaintthud，thudontheironing-board。Onceroused，heopenedhiseyestosee，hismotherstandingonthehearthrugwiththehotironnear，hercheek，listening，asitwere，totheheat。Herstillface，withthemouthclosedtightfromsufferinganddisillusionand，self-denial，andhernosethesmallestbitononeside，andherblue，eyessoyoung，quick，andwarm，madehisheartcontractwithlove。
Whenshewasquiet，so，shelookedbraveandrichwithlife，butas，ifshehadbeendoneoutofherrights。Ithurttheboykeenly，thisfeelingaboutherthatshehadneverhadherlife’sfulfilment：
andhisownincapabilitytomakeuptoherhurthimwithasenseof，impotence，yetmadehimpatientlydoggedinside。Itwashischildishaim。
Shespatontheiron，andalittleballofspitbounded，racedoffthedark，glossysurface。Then，kneeling，sherubbed，theirononthesackliningofthehearthrugvigorously。Shewas，warmintheruddyfirelight。Paullovedthewayshecrouched，andputherheadononeside。Hermovementswerelightandquick。
Itwasalwaysapleasuretowatchher。Nothingsheeverdid，nomovementsheevermade，couldhavebeenfoundfaultwithby，herchildren。Theroomwaswarmandfullofthescentofhotlinen。
Laterontheclergymancameandtalkedsoftlywithher。
Paulwaslaidupwithanattackofbronchitis。Hedidnot，mindmuch。Whathappenedhappened，anditwasnogoodkicking，againstthepricks。Helovedtheevenings，aftereighto’clock，whenthelightwasputout，andhecouldwatchthefire-flamesspring，overthedarknessofthewallsandceiling;couldwatchhugeshadows，wavingandtossing，tilltheroomseemedfullofmenwhobattledsilently。
Onretiringtobed，thefatherwouldcomeintothesickroom。
Hewasalwaysverygentleifanyonewereill。Buthedisturbedthe，atmospherefortheboy。
“Areterasleep，mydarlin’？”Morelaskedsoftly。
“No;ismymothercomin’？”
“She’sjustfinishin’foldin’theclothes。Doyouwantanything？”
Morelrarely“thee’d“hisson。
“Idon’twantnothing。Buthowlongwillshebe？”
“Notlong，myduckie。”
Thefatherwaitedundecidedlyonthehearthrugforamoment，ortwo。Hefelthissondidnotwanthim。Thenhewenttothetop，ofthestairsandsaidtohiswife：
“Thischildt’saxin’forthee;howlongartgoin’tobe？”
“UntilI’vefinished，goodgracious！，Tellhimtogotosleep。”
“Shesaysyou’retogotosleep，“thefatherrepeatedgently，toPaul。
“Well，IwantHERtocome，“insistedtheboy。
“Hesayshecan’tgoofftillyoucome，“Morelcalleddownstairs。
“Eh，dear！，Ishan’tbelong。Anddostopshoutingdownstairs。
There’stheotherchildren——“
ThenMorelcameagainandcrouchedbeforethebedroomfire。
Helovedafiredearly。
“Shesaysshewon’tbelong，“hesaid。
Heloiteredaboutindefinitely。Theboybegantogetfeverish，withirritation。Hisfather’spresenceseemedtoaggravateall，hissickimpatience。AtlastMorel，afterhavingstoodlooking，athissonawhile，saidsoftly：
“Good-night，mydarling。”
“Good-night，“Paulreplied，turningroundinrelieftobealone。
Paullovedtosleepwithhismother。Sleepisstillmostperfect，inspiteofhygienists，whenitissharedwithabeloved。
Thewarmth，thesecurityandpeaceofsoul，theuttercomfortfrom，thetouchoftheother，knitsthesleep，sothatittakesthebody，andsoulcompletelyinitshealing。Paullayagainstherandslept，andgotbetter;whilstshe，alwaysabadsleeper，felllateron，intoaprofoundsleepthatseemedtogiveherfaith。
Inconvalescencehewouldsitupinbed，seethefluffy，horsesfeedingatthetroughsinthefield，scatteringtheirhay，onthetroddenyellowsnow;watchtheminerstroophome——small，blackfigurestrailingslowlyingangsacrossthewhitefield。
Thenthenightcameupindarkbluevapourfromthesnow。
Inconvalescenceeverythingwaswonderful。Thesnowflakes，suddenlyarrivingonthewindow-pane，clungthereamomentlikeswallows，thenweregone，andadropofwaterwascrawlingdowntheglass。
Thesnowflakeswhirledroundthecornerofthehouse，likepigeonsdashingby。Awayacrossthevalleythelittleblack，traincrawleddoubtfullyoverthegreatwhiteness。
Whiletheyweresopoor，thechildrenweredelightedifthey，coulddoanythingtohelpeconomically。AnnieandPaulandArthur，wentoutearlyinthemorning，insummer，lookingformushrooms，huntingthroughthewetgrass，fromwhichthelarkswererising，forthewhite-skinned，wonderfulnakedbodiescrouchedsecretlyin，thegreen。Andiftheygothalfapoundtheyfeltexceedinglyhappy：
therewasthejoyoffindingsomething，thejoyofacceptingsomething，straightfromthehandofNature，andthejoyofcontributingto，thefamilyexchequer。
Butthemostimportantharvest，aftergleaningforfrumenty，wastheblackberries。Mrs。Morelmustbuyfruitforpuddingson，theSaturdays;alsoshelikedblackberries。SoPaulandArthurscoured，thecoppicesandwoodsandoldquarries，solongasablackberry，wastobefound，everyweek-endgoingontheirsearch。Inthat，regionofminingvillagesblackberriesbecameacomparativerarity。
ButPaulhuntedfarandwide。Helovedbeingoutinthecountry，amongthebushes。Buthealsocouldnotbeartogohometohis，motherempty。That，hefelt，woulddisappointher，andhewould，havediedrather。
“Goodgracious！”shewouldexclaimastheladscamein，late，andtiredtodeath，andhungry，“whereverhaveyoubeen？”
“Well，“repliedPaul，“therewasn’tany，sowewentover，MiskHills。Andlookhere，ourmother！”
Shepeepedintothebasket。
“Now，thosearefineones！”sheexclaimed。
“Andthere’sovertwopounds-isn’tthereovertwopounds“？
Shetriedthebasket。
“Yes，“sheanswereddoubtfully。
ThenPaulfishedoutalittlespray。Healwaysbroughther，onespray，thebesthecouldfind。
“Pretty！”shesaid，inacurioustone，ofawomanaccepting，alove-token。
Theboywalkedallday，wentmilesandmiles，ratherthan，ownhimselfbeatenandcomehometoherempty-handed。Shenever，realisedthis，whilsthewasyoung。Shewasawomanwhowaited，forherchildrentogrowup。AndWilliamoccupiedherchiefly。
ButwhenWilliamwenttoNottingham，andwasnotsomuchat，home，themothermadeacompanionofPaul。Thelatterwas，unconsciouslyjealousofhisbrother，andWilliamwasjealousofhim。
Atthesametime，theyweregoodfriends。
Mrs。Morel’sintimacywithhersecondsonwasmoresubtleandfine，perhapsnotsopassionateaswithhereldest。Itwastherule，thatPaulshouldfetchthemoneyonFridayafternoons。Thecolliers，ofthefivepitswerepaidonFridays，butnotindividually。
Alltheearningsofeachstallwereputdowntothechiefbutty，ascontractor，andhedividedthewagesagain，eitherinthe，public-houseorinhisownhome。Sothatthechildrencould，fetchthemoney，schoolclosedearlyonFridayafternoons。
EachoftheMorelchildren——William，thenAnnie，thenPaul——hadfetched，themoneyonFridayafternoons，untiltheywentthemselvestowork。
Paulusedtosetoffathalf-pastthree，withalittlecalicobag，inhispocket。Downallthepaths，women，girls，children，andmen，wereseentroopingtotheoffices。
Theseofficeswerequitehandsome：，anew，red-brickbuilding，almostlikeamansion，standinginitsowngroundsattheendof，GreenhillLane。Thewaiting-roomwasthehall，along，bareroom，pavedwithbluebrick，andhavingaseatallround，againstthewall。
Heresatthecolliersintheirpit-dirt。Theyhadcomeupearly。
Thewomenandchildrenusuallyloiteredaboutontheredgravelpaths。
Paulalwaysexaminedthegrassborder，andthebiggrassbank，becauseinitgrewtinypansiesandtinyforget-me-nots。There，wasasoundofmanyvoices。ThewomenhadontheirSundayhats。
Thegirlschatteredloudly。Littledogsranhereandthere。
Thegreenshrubsweresilentallaround。
Thenfrominsidecamethecry“SpinneyPark——SpinneyPark。”
AllthefolkforSpinneyParktroopedinside。Whenitwastime，forBrettytobepaid，Paulwentinamongthecrowd。Thepay-room，wasquitesmall。Acounterwentacross，dividingitintohalf。
Behindthecounterstoodtwomen——Mr。Braithwaiteandhisclerk，Mr。Winterbottom。Mr。Braithwaitewaslarge，somewhatofthestern，patriarchinappearance，havingaratherthinwhitebeard。
Hewasusuallymuffledinanenormoussilkneckerchief，andright，uptothehotsummerahugefireburnedintheopengrate。
Nowindowwasopen。Sometimesinwintertheairscorchedthethroats，ofthepeople，cominginfromthefreshness。Mr。Winterbottom，wasrathersmallandfat，andverybald。Hemaderemarksthatwere，notwitty，whilsthischieflaunchedforthpatriarchaladmonitions，againstthecolliers。
Theroomwascrowdedwithminersintheirpit-dirt，menwhohad，beenhomeandchanged，andwomen，andoneortwochildren，andusually，adog。Paulwasquitesmall，soitwasoftenhisfatetobejammed，behindthelegsofthemen，nearthefirewhichscorchedhim。
Heknewtheorderofthenames——theywentaccordingtostallnumber。
“Holliday，“cametheringingvoiceofMr。Braithwaite。
ThenMrs。Hollidaysteppedsilentlyforward，waspaid，drewaside。
“Bower——JohnBower。”
Aboysteppedtothecounter。Mr。Braithwaite，largeandirascible，gloweredathimoverhisspectacles。
“JohnBower！”herepeated。
“It’sme，“saidtheboy。
“Why，youusedto’aveadifferentnosethanthat，“saidglossy，Mr。Winterbottom，peeringoverthecounter。Thepeopletittered，thinkingofJohnBowersenior。
“Howisityourfather’snotcome！”saidMr。Braithwaite，inalargeandmagisterialvoice。
“He’sbadly，“pipedtheboy。
“Youshouldtellhimtokeepoffthedrink，“pronouncedthe，greatcashier。
“An’nivermindifheputshisfootthroughyer，“saidamocking，voicefrombehind。
Allthemenlaughed。Thelargeandimportantcashierlooked，downathisnextsheet。
“FredPilkington！”hecalled，quiteindifferent。
Mr。Braithwaitewasanimportantshareholderinthefirm。
Paulknewhisturnwasnextbutone，andhisheartbegantobeat。
Hewaspushedagainstthechimney-piece。Hiscalveswereburning。
Buthedidnothopetogetthroughthewallofmen。
“WalterMorel！”cametheringingvoice。
“Here！”pipedPaul，smallandinadequate。
“Morel——WalterMorel！”thecashierrepeated，hisfinger，andthumbontheinvoice，readytopasson。
Paulwassufferingconvulsionsofself-consciousness，andcould，notorwouldnotshout。Thebacksofthemenobliteratedhim。
ThenMr。Winterbottomcametotherescue。
“He’shere。Whereishe？，Morel’slad？”
Thefat，red，baldlittlemanpeeredroundwithkeeneyes。
Hepointedatthefireplace。Thecollierslookedround，movedaside，anddisclosedtheboy。
“Hereheis！”saidMr。Winterbottom。
Paulwenttothecounter。
“Seventeenpoundselevenandfivepence。Whydon’tyou，shoutupwhenyou’recalled？”saidMr。Braithwaite。Hebanged，ontotheinvoiceafive-poundbagofsilver，theninadelicate，andprettymovement，pickedupalittleten-poundcolumnofgold，andplumpeditbesidethesilver。Thegoldslidinabrightstream，overthepaper。Thecashierfinishedcountingoffthemoney;
theboydraggedthewholedownthecountertoMr。Winterbottom，towhomthestoppagesforrentandtoolsmustbepaid。Herehe，sufferedagain。
“Sixteenan’six，“saidMr。Winterbottom。
Theladwastoomuchupsettocount。Hepushedforwardsome，loosesilverandhalfasovereign。
“Howmuchdoyouthinkyou’vegivenme？”askedMr。Winterbottom。
Theboylookedathim，butsaidnothing。Hehadnotthe，faintestnotion。
“Haven’tyougotatongueinyourhead？”
Paulbithislip，andpushedforwardsomemoresilver。
“Don’ttheyteachyoutocountattheBoard-school？”heasked。
“Nowtbutalgibbraan’French，“saidacollier。
“An’cheekan’impidence，“saidanother。
Paulwaskeepingsomeonewaiting。Withtremblingfingershe，gothismoneyintothebagandslidout。Hesufferedthetortures，ofthedamnedontheseoccasions。
Hisrelief，whenhegotoutside，andwaswalkingalongthe，MansfieldRoad，wasinfinite。Ontheparkwallthemossesweregreen。
Thereweresomegoldandsomewhitefowlspeckingundertheapple，treesofanorchard。Thecollierswerewalkinghomeinastream。
Theboywentnearthewall，self-consciously。Heknewmanyofthemen，butcouldnotrecognisethemintheirdirt。Andthiswasanew，torturetohim。
WhenhegotdowntotheNewInn，atBretty，hisfatherwasnot，yetcome。Mrs。Wharmby，thelandlady，knewhim。Hisgrandmother，Morel’smother，hadbeenMrs。Wharmby’sfriend。
“Yourfather’snotcomeyet，“saidthelandlady，inthepeculiar，half-scornful，half-patronisingvoiceofawomanwhotalkschiefly，togrownmen。”Sityoudown。”
Paulsatdownontheedgeofthebenchinthebar。
Somecollierswere“reckoning“——sharingouttheirmoney——inacorner;
otherscamein。Theyallglancedattheboywithoutspeaking。
AtlastMorelcame;brisk，andwithsomethingofanair，evenin，hisblackness。
“Hello！”hesaidrathertenderlytohisson。”Haveyoubestedme？
Shallyouhaveadrinkofsomething？”
Paulandallthechildrenwerebredupfierceanti-alcoholists，andhewouldhavesufferedmoreindrinkingalemonadebeforeall，thementhaninhavingatoothdrawn。
Thelandladylookedathimdehautenbas，ratherpitying，andatthesametime，resentinghisclear，fiercemorality。
Paulwenthome，glowering。Heenteredthehousesilently。
Fridaywasbakingday，andtherewasusuallyahotbun。Hismother，putitbeforehim。
Suddenlyheturnedonherinafury，hiseyesflashing：
“I’mNOTgoingtotheofficeanymore，“hesaid。
“Why，what’sthematter？”hismotheraskedinsurprise。
Hissuddenragesratheramusedher。
“I’mNOTgoinganymore，“hedeclared。
“Oh，verywell，tellyourfatherso。”
Hechewedhisbunasifhehatedit。
“I’mnot——I’mnotgoingtofetchthemoney。”
“ThenoneofCarlin’schildrencango;they’dbegladenough，ofthesixpence，“saidMrs。Morel。
ThissixpencewasPaul’sonlyincome。Itmostlywentinbuying，birthdaypresents;butitWASanincome，andhetreasuredit。
But——
“Theycanhaveit，then！”hesaid。”Idon’twantit。”
“Oh，verywell，“saidhismother。”Butyouneedn’tbullyME
aboutit。”
“They’rehateful，andcommon，andhateful，theyare，andI’mnotgoinganymore。Mr。Braithwaitedropshis’h’s’，an’
Mr。Winterbottomsays’Youwas’。”
“Andisthatwhyyouwon’tgoanymore？”smiledMrs。Morel。
Theboywassilentforsometime。Hisfacewaspale，hiseyes，darkandfurious。Hismothermoved，aboutatherwork，takingnonoticeofhim。
“Theyalwaysstan’infrontofme，so’sIcan’tgetout，“
hesaid。
“Well，mylad，you’veonlytoASKthem，“shereplied。
“An’thenAlfredWinterbottomsays，’Whatdotheyteachyou，attheBoard-school？’“
“TheynevertaughtHIMmuch，“saidMrs。Morel，“thatisafact——
neithermannersnorwit——andhiscunninghewasbornwith。”
So，inherownway，shesoothedhim。
Hisridiculoushypersensitivenessmadeher，heartache。Andsometimesthefuryinhiseyes，rousedher，madehersleepingsoulliftupitsheadamoment，surprised。
“Whatwasthecheque？”sheasked。
“Seventeenpoundselevenandfivepence，andsixteen，andsixstoppages，“repliedtheboy。”It’sagoodweek;
andonlyfiveshillingsstoppagesformyfather。”
Soshewasabletocalculatehowmuchherhusbandhadearned，andcouldcallhimtoaccountifhegavehershortmoney。
Morelalwayskepttohimselfthesecretoftheweek’samount。
Fridaywasthebakingnightandmarketnight。Itwasthe，rulethatPaulshouldstayathomeandbake。Helovedtostop，inanddraworread;hewasveryfondofdrawing。Anniealways，“gallivanted“onFridaynights;Arthurwasenjoyinghimselfasusual。
Sotheboyremainedalone。
Mrs。Morellovedhermarketing。Inthetinymarket-placeon，thetopofthehill，wherefourroads，fromNottinghamandDerby，IlkestonandMansfield，meet，manystallswereerected。Brakesran，infromsurroundingvillages。Themarket-placewasfullofwomen，thestreetspackedwithmen。Itwasamazingtoseesomanymen，everywhereinthestreets。Mrs。Morelusuallyquarrelledwith，herlacewoman，sympathisedwithherfruitman——whowasagabey，buthiswifewasabad’un——laughedwiththefishman——whowas，ascampbutsodroll——putthelinoleummaninhisplace，wascold，withtheodd-waresman，andonlywenttothecrockerymanwhenshe，wasdriven——ordrawnbythecornflowersonalittledish;thenshe，wascoldlypolite。
“Iwonderedhowmuchthatlittledishwas，“shesaid。
“Sevenpencetoyou。”
“Thankyou。”
Sheputthedishdownandwalkedaway;butshecouldnotleave，themarket-placewithoutit。Againshewentbywherethepots，laycoldlyonthefloor，andsheglancedatthedishfurtively，pretendingnotto。
Shewasalittlewoman，inabonnetandablackcostume。
Herbonnetwasinitsthirdyear;itwasagreatgrievancetoAnnie。
“Mother！”thegirlimplored，“don’twearthatnubblylittlebonnet。”
“ThenwhatelseshallIwear，“repliedthemothertartly。
“AndI’msureit’srightenough。”
Ithadstartedwithatip;thenhadhadflowers;nowwas，reducedtoblacklaceandabitofjet。
“Itlooksrathercomedown，“saidPaul。”Couldn’tyougive，itapick-me-up？”
“I’lljowlyourheadforimpudence，“saidMrs。Morel，andshe，tiedthestringsoftheblackbonnetvaliantlyunderherchin。
Sheglancedatthedishagain。Bothsheandherenemy，thepotman，hadanuncomfortablefeeling，asifthereweresomething，betweenthem。Suddenlyheshouted：
“Doyouwantitforfivepence？”
Shestarted。Herhearthardened;butthenshestoopedandtook，upherdish。
“I’llhaveit，“shesaid。
“Yer’lldomethefavour，like？”hesaid。”Yer’dbetterspit，init，likeyerdowheny’avesomethinggiveyer。”
Mrs。Morelpaidhimthefivepenceinacoldmanner。
“Idon’tseeyougiveitme，“shesaid。”Youwouldn’tletme，haveitforfivepenceifyoudidn’twantto。”
“Inthisflamin’，scrattlin’placeyoumaycountyerselflucky，ifyoucangiveyourthingsaway，“hegrowled。
“Yes;therearebadtimes，andgood，“saidMrs。Morel。
Butshehadforgiventhepotman。Theywerefriends。
Shedarenowfingerhispots。Soshewashappy。
Paulwaswaitingforher。Helovedherhome-coming。She，wasalwaysherbestso——triumphant，tired，ladenwithparcels，feelingrichinspirit。Heheardherquick，lightstepintheentry，andlookedupfromhisdrawing。
“Oh！”shesighed，smilingathimfromthedoorway。
“Myword，youAREloaded！”heexclaimed，puttingdownhisbrush。
“Iam！”shegasped。”ThatbrazenAnniesaidshe’dmeetme。
SUCHaweight！”
Shedroppedherstringbagandherpackagesonthetable。
“Isthebreaddone？”sheasked，goingtotheoven。
“Thelastoneissoaking，“hereplied。”Youneedn’tlook，I’venotforgottenit。”
“Oh，thatpotman！”shesaid，closingtheovendoor。
“YouknowwhatawretchI’vesaidhewas？，Well，Idon’tthinkhe’s，quitesobad。”
“Don’tyou？”
Theboywasattentivetoher。Shetookoffherlittle，blackbonnet。
“No。Ithinkhecan’tmakeanymoney——well，it’severybody’s，cryalikenowadays——anditmakeshimdisagreeable。”
“ItwouldME，“saidPaul。
“Well，onecan’twonderatit。Andheletmehave——howmuch，doyouthinkheletmehaveTHISfor？”
Shetookthedishoutofitsragofnewspaper，andstood，lookingonitwithjoy。
“Showme！”saidPaul。
Thetwostoodtogethergloatingoverthedish。
“ILOVEcornflowersonthings，“saidPaul。
“Yes，andIthoughtoftheteapotyouboughtme——“
“Oneandthree，“saidPaul。
“Fivepence！”
“It’snotenough，mother。”
“No。Doyouknow，Ifairlysneakedoffwithit。ButI’d，beenextravagant，Icouldn’taffordanymore。Andheneedn’t，haveletmehaveitifhehadn’twantedto。”
“No，heneedn’t，needhe，“saidPaul，andthetwocomforted，eachotherfromthefearofhavingrobbedthepotman。
“Wec’nhavestewedfruitinit，“saidPaul。
“Orcustard，orajelly，“saidhismother。
“Orradishesandlettuce，“saidhe。
“Don’tforgetthatbread，“shesaid，hervoicebrightwithglee。
Paullookedintheoven;tappedtheloafonthebase。
“It’sdone，“hesaid，givingittoher。
Shetappeditalso。
“Yes，“shereplied，goingtounpackherbag。”Oh，andI’m，awicked，extravagantwoman。IknowIs’llcometowant。”
Hehoppedtohersideeagerly，toseeherlatestextravagance。
Sheunfoldedanotherlumpofnewspaperanddisclosedsomerootsof，pansiesandofcrimsondaisies。
“Fourpenn’orth！”shemoaned。
“HowCHEAP！”hecried。
“Yes，butIcouldn’tafforditTHISweekofallweeks。”
“Butlovely！”hecried。
“Aren’tthey！”sheexclaimed，givingwaytopurejoy。
“Paul，lookatthisyellowone，isn’tit——andafacejustlikean，oldman！”
“Just！”criedPaul，stoopingtosniff。”Andsmellsthatnice！
Buthe’sabitsplashed。”
Heraninthescullery，camebackwiththeflannel，andcarefully，washedthepansy。
“NOWlookathimnowhe’swet！”hesaid。
“Yes！”sheexclaimed，brimfulofsatisfaction。
ThechildrenofScargillStreetfeltquiteselect。Atthe，endwheretheMorelslivedtherewerenotmanyyoungthings。
Sothefewweremoreunited。Boysandgirlsplayedtogether，thegirlsjoininginthefightsandtheroughgames，theboystaking，partinthedancinggamesandringsandmake-beliefofthegirls。
AnnieandPaulandArthurlovedthewinterevenings，whenitwasnotwet。Theystayedindoorstillthecolliers，wereallgonehome，tillitwasthickdark，andthestreetwould，bedeserted。Thentheytiedtheirscarvesroundtheirnecks，fortheyscornedovercoats，asallthecolliers’childrendid，andwentout。Theentrywasverydark，andattheendthewhole，greatnightopenedout，inahollow，withalittletangleoflights，belowwhereMintonpitlay，andanotherfarawayoppositeforSelby。
Thefarthesttinylightsseemedtostretchoutthedarknessforever。
Thechildrenlookedanxiouslydowntheroadattheonelamp-post，whichstoodattheendofthefieldpath。Ifthelittle，luminousspaceweredeserted，thetwoboysfeltgenuinedesolation。
Theystoodwiththeirhandsintheirpocketsunderthelamp，turningtheirbacksonthenight，quitemiserable，watchingthe，darkhouses。Suddenlyapinaforeunderashortcoatwasseen，andalong-leggedgirlcameflyingup。
“Where’sBillyPillinsan’yourAnniean’EddieDakin？”
“Idon’tknow。”
Butitdidnotmattersomuch——therewerethreenow。Theyset，upagameroundthelamp-post，tilltheothersrushedup，yelling。
Thentheplaywentfastandfurious。
Therewasonlythisonelamp-post。Behindwasthegreatscoop，ofdarkness，asifallthenightwerethere。Infront，anotherwide，darkwayopenedoverthehillbrow。Occasionallysomebodycame，outofthiswayandwentintothefielddownthepath。Inadozen，yardsthenighthadswallowedthem。Thechildrenplayedon。
Theywerebroughtexceedinglyclosetogetherowingto，theirisolation。Ifaquarreltookplace，thewholeplaywasspoilt。
Arthurwasverytouchy，andBillyPillins——reallyPhilips——wasworse。
ThenPaulhadtosidewithArthur，andonPaul’ssidewentAlice，whileBillyPillinsalwayshadEmmieLimbandEddieDakintoback，himup。Thenthesixwouldfight，hatewithafuryofhatred，andfleehomeinterror。Paulneverforgot，afteroneofthesefierce，internecinefights，seeingabigredmoonliftitselfup，slowly，betweenthewasteroadoverthehilltop，steadily，likeagreatbird。
AndhethoughtoftheBible，thatthemoonshouldbeturnedtoblood。
AndthenextdayhemadehastetobefriendswithBillyPillins。
Andthenthewild，intensegameswentonagainunderthelamp-post，surroundedbysomuchdarkness。Mrs。Morel，goingintoherparlour，wouldhearthechildrensingingaway：
“MyshoesaremadeofSpanishleather，Mysocksaremadeofsilk;
Iweararingoneveryfinger，Iwashmyselfinmilk。”
Theysoundedsoperfectlyabsorbedinthegameastheirvoicescame，outofthenight，thattheyhadthefeelofwildcreaturessinging。
Itstirredthemother;andsheunderstoodwhentheycameinateight，o’clock，ruddy，withbrillianteyes，andquick，passionatespeech。
TheyalllovedtheScargillStreethouseforitsopenness，forthegreatscallopoftheworldithadinview。Onsummerevenings，thewomenwouldstandagainstthefieldfence，gossiping，facing，thewest，watchingthesunsetsflarequicklyout，tilltheDerbyshire，hillsridgedacrossthecrimsonfaraway，liketheblackcrest，ofanewt。
Inthissummerseasonthepitsneverturnedfulltime，particularlythesoftcoal。Mrs。Dakin，wholivednextdoor，toMrs。Morel，goingtothefieldfencetoshakeherhearthrug，wouldspymencomingslowlyupthehill。Shesawatoncethey，werecolliers。Thenshewaited，atall，thin，shrew-facedwoman，standingonthehillbrow，almostlikeamenacetothepoorcolliers，whoweretoilingup。Itwasonlyeleveno’clock。Fromthefar-off，woodedhillsthehazethathangslikefineblackcrapeattheback，ofasummermorninghadnotyetdissipated。Thefirstmancame，tothestile。”Chock-chock！”wentthegateunderhisthrust。
“What，han’yerknockedoff？”criedMrs。Dakin。
“Wehan，missis。”
“It’sapityastheyletnyergoo，“shesaidsarcastically。
“Itisthat，“repliedtheman。
“Nay，youknowyou’refligtocomeupagain，“shesaid。
Andthemanwenton。Mrs。Dakin，goingupheryard，spiedMrs。Moreltakingtheashestotheash-pit。
“IreckonMinton’sknockedoff，missis，“shecried。
“Isn’titsickenin！”exclaimedMrs。Morelinwrath。
“Ha！ButI’njustseedJontHutchby。”
“Theymightaswellhavesavedtheirshoe-leather，“
saidMrs。Morel。Andbothwomenwentindoorsdisgusted。
Thecolliers，theirfacesscarcelyblackened，weretrooping，homeagain。Morelhatedtogoback。Helovedthesunnymorning。
Buthehadgonetopittowork，andtobesenthomeagainspoilt，histemper。
“Goodgracious，atthistime！”exclaimedhiswife，asheentered。
“CanIhelpit，woman？”heshouted。
“AndI’venotdonehalfenoughdinner。”
“ThenI’lleatmybito’snapasItookwithme，“
hebawledpathetically。Hefeltignominiousandsore。
Andthechildren，cominghomefromschool，wouldwondertosee，theirfathereatingwithhisdinnerthetwothickslicesofrather，dryanddirtybread-and-butterthathadbeentopitandback。
“What’smydadeatinghissnapfornow？”askedArthur。
“Ishouldha’eitholledatmeifIdidna，“snortedMorel。
“Whatastory！”exclaimedhiswife。
“An’isitgoin’tobewasted？”saidMorel。”I’mnotsuch，aextravagantmortalasyoulot，withyourwaste。IfIdrop，abitofbreadatpit，inallthedustan’dirt，Ipickitupan’
eatit。”
“Themicewouldeatit，“saidPaul。”Itwouldn’tbewasted。”
“Goodbread-an’-butter’snotformice，either，“saidMorel。
“Dirtyornotdirty，I’deatitratherthanitshouldbewasted。”
“Youmightleaveitforthemiceandpayforitoutofyour，nextpint，“saidMrs。Morel。
“Oh，mightI？”heexclaimed。
Theywereverypoorthatautumn。Williamhadjustgoneaway，toLondon，andhismothermissedhismoney。Hesenttenshillingsonce，ortwice，buthehadmanythingstopayforatfirst。Hisletters，cameregularlyonceaweek。Hewroteagooddealtohismother，tellingherallhislife，howhemadefriends，andwasexchanging，lessonswithaFrenchman，howheenjoyedLondon。Hismotherfelt，againhewasremainingtoherjustaswhenhewasathome。Shewrote，tohimeveryweekherdirect，ratherwittyletters。Alldaylong，asshecleanedthehouse，shethoughtofhim。HewasinLondon：
hewoulddowell。Almost，hewaslikeherknightwhoworeHER
favourinthebattle。
HewascomingatChristmasforfivedays。Therehadnever，beensuchpreparations。PaulandArthurscouredtheland，forhollyandevergreens。Anniemadetheprettypaperhoops，intheold-fashionedway。Andtherewasunheard-ofextravagance，inthelarder。Mrs。Morelmadeabigandmagnificentcake。
Then，feelingqueenly，sheshowedPaulhowtoblanchalmonds。
Heskinnedthelongnutsreverently，countingthemall，toseenot，onewaslost。Itwassaidthateggswhiskedbetterinacoldplace。
Sotheboystoodinthescullery，wherethetemperaturewasnearly，atfreezing-point，andwhiskedandwhisked，andflewinexcitement，tohismotherasthewhiteofegggrewstifferandmoresnowy。
“Justlook，mother！，Isn’titlovely？”
Andhebalancedabitonhisnose，thenblewitintheair。
“Now，don’twasteit，“saidthemother。
Everybodywasmadwithexcitement。Williamwascomingon，ChristmasEve。Mrs。Morelsurveyedherpantry。Therewasabig，plumcake，andaricecake，jamtarts，lemontarts，andmince-pies——
twoenormousdishes。Shewasfinishingcooking——Spanishtarts，andcheese-cakes。Everywherewasdecorated。Thekissingbunch，ofberriedhollyhungwithbrightandglitteringthings，spunslowly，overMrs。Morel’sheadasshetrimmedherlittletartsinthekitchen。
