she knew that it was I who had roused my father, and prevented her
escape from his wrath. The consequence was that I was seldom at home,
except to sleep. I sauntered to the beach, ran into the water, sometimes
rowed in the wherries, at others hauling them in and holding them steady
for the passengers to land. I was beginning to be useful to the
watermen, and was very often rewarded with a piece of bread and cheese,
or a drink of beer out of their pots. The first year after my father's
visit I was seldom given a meal, and continually beaten--indeed,
sometimes cruelly so--but as I grew stronger, I rebelled and fought, and
with such success that, although I was hated more, I was punished less.

One scene between my mother and me may serve as a specimen for all. I
would come home with my trousers tucked up, and my _high-lows_ unlaced
and full of water, sucking every time that I lifted up my leg, and
marking the white sanded floor of the front room, as I proceeded through
it to the back kitchen. My mother would come downstairs, and perceiving
the marks I had left, would get angry, and as usual commence singing--

"'A frog he would a-wooing go,
Heigho, says Rowly.'

"I see here's that little wretch been here--

"'Whether his mother would let him or no,
Heigho, says Rowly.'

"I'll rowly him with the rolling-pin when I get hold of him. He's worse
than that beastly water-spaniel of Sir Hercules', who used to shake
himself over my best cambric muslin. Well, we'll see. He'll be wanting
his dinner; I only wish he may get it.