says "Jane, is there a street-child's old cap down our Airy?" I says
"Miss Wozenham before your housemaid answers that question you must allow
me to inform you to your face that my grandson is _not_ a street-child
and is _not_ in the habit of wearing old caps. In fact" I says "Miss
Wozenham I am far from sure that my grandson's cap may not be newer than
your own" which was perfectly savage in me, her lace being the commonest
machine-make washed and torn besides, but I had been put into a state to
begin with fomented by impertinence. Miss Wozenham says red in the face
"Jane you heard my question, is there any child's cap down our Airy?"
"Yes Ma'am" says Jane, "I think I did see some such rubbish a-lying
there." "Then" says Miss Wozenham "let these visitors out, and then
throw up that worthless article out of my premises." But here the child
who had been staring at Miss Wozenham with all his eyes and more, frowns
down his little eyebrows purses up his little mouth puts his chubby legs
far apart turns his little dimpled fists round and round slowly over one
another like a little coffee-mill, and says to her "Oo impdent to mi
Gran, me tut oor hi!" "O!" says Miss Wozenham looking down scornfully at
the Mite "this is not a street-child is it not! Really!" I bursts out
laughing and I says "Miss Wozenham if this ain't a pretty sight to you I
don't envy your feelings and I wish you good-day. Jemmy come along with
Gran." And I was still in the best of humours though his cap came flying
up into the street as if it had been just turned on out of the
water-plug, and I went home laughing all the way, all owing to that dear
boy.

The miles and miles that me and the Major have travelled with Jemmy in
the dusk between the lights are not to be calculated, Jemmy driving on
the coach-box which is the Major's brass-bound writing desk on the table,
me inside in the easy-chair and the Major Guard up behind with a brown-
paper horn doing it really wonderful. I do assure you my dear that