of a potman; his hours were from eight in the morning till midnight
on week-days, and on Sunday the time during which a public-house is
permitted to be open; once a month he was allowed freedom after six
o'clock.) Against the window was hung an old shawl pierced with many
rents. By the fire sat Mrs. Candy; she leaned forward, her head,
which was bound in linen swathes, resting upon her hands.

'What have you got?' she asked, in the thick voice of a drunkard,
without moving.

'Eighteenpence; it's all they'd give me.'

The woman cursed in her throat, but exhibited no anger with
Pennyloaf.

'Go an' get some tea an' milk,' she said, after a pause. 'There is
sugar. An' bring seven o' coals; there's only a dust.'

She pointed to a deal box which stood by the hearth. Pennyloaf went
out again.

Over the fireplace, the stained wall bore certain singular
ornaments. These were five coloured cards, such as are signed by one
who takes a pledge of total abstinence; each presented the
signature, 'Maria Candy,' and it was noticeable that at each
progressive date the handwriting had become more unsteady. Yes, five
times had Maria Candy promised, with the help of God, to abstain,'
&c. &c.; each time she was in earnest. But it appeared that the help
of God availed little against the views of one Mrs. Green, who kept
the beer-shop in Rosoman Street, once Mrs. Peckover's, and who could