Jim and me tried to explain, but it weren't no use. The first chance he had
the young man lodger got out through the door. He come back in half a
minute with his feet bare and his weskit all anyhow. The shirts and socks
was under his arm.

"Damn you and yer clothes!" he said, and flung 'em at me and Jim. It were
very disheartenin'.

When it come to leavin' we felt we ought to show our gratitude for the
treatment we had received by makin' Mrs. Dawkins a little present. Bein' of
an uncommon disposition it were difficult to choose what would please her.
I were in favour of a pink shawl; but Jim didn't seem to fancy givin'
anybody any more clothes. In the end we chose a pair of earrings.

Directly we give 'em to her we saw we'd done wrong. She turned on Dawkins
like a hyener. "'Ave I done my duty and starved us all to death and given
them two the best in the house and slept cold every night to be paid in
gewgaws?" she said. "Didn't I do it willin', and wouldn't I do it agen? and
are you a man or a cur that you stand there expectin' me to put them things
into my ears instead of behind the fire?" In another minute the earrings
was melted. It were some consolation to me and Jim that she didn't refuse
to shake 'ands with us when we come away; but Dawkins did, and so did the
young man lodger, and all the little Dawkinses spit at us. We never have
been able to make out who were to blame. We thinks sometimes it were Mrs.
Dawkins.

* * * * *

How it strikes the Hyphenated.