"After which, when night comes," pursued Mr. Porter, "they'll 'ave to be
put to bed. In the morning they'll 'ave to be got up and washed and
dressed and given their breakfast and sent off to school. Then there's
shopping wot must be done, and beds wot must be made."

"I'll make ours," said his wife, decidedly. "For my own sake."

"And wot about the others?" inquired Mr. Porter.

"The others'll be made by the same party as washes the children, and
cooks their dinner for 'em, and puts 'em to bed, and cleans the 'ouse,"
was the reply.

"I'm not going to have your mother 'ere," exclaimed Mr. Porter, with
sudden heat. "Mind that!"

"I don't want her," said Mrs. Porter. "It's a job for a strong, healthy
man, not a pore old thing with swelled legs and short in the breath."

"Strong--'ealthy--man!" repeated her husband, in a dazed voice.
"Strong--'eal---- Wot are you talking about?"

Mrs. Porter beamed on him. "You," she said, sweetly.

There was a long silence, broken at last by a firework display of
expletives. Mrs. Porter, still smiling, sat unmoved.

"You may smile!" raved the indignant Mr. Porter. "You may sit there
smiling and smoking like a--like a man, but if you think that I'm going