to pay anything this week?"

The woman seemed to be unconscious.

"Have you got the rent?" asked Mr. Woodstock, turning to the child,
who had crouched down in another corner.

"No, we ain't," was the reply, with a terribly fierce glare from
eyes which rather seemed to have looked on ninety years than nine.

"Then out you go! Come, you, get up now; d' you hear? Very well;
come along, Waymark; you take hold of that foot, and I'll take this.
Now, drag her out on to the landing."

They dragged her about half-way to the door, when suddenly Waymark
felt the foot he had hold of withdrawn from his grasp, and at once
the woman sprang upright. Then she fell on him, tooth and nail,
screaming like some evil beast. Had not Abraham forthwith come to
the rescue, he would have been seriously torn about the face, but
just in time the woman's arms were seized in a giant grip, and she
was flung bodily out of the room, falling with a crash upon the
landing. Then from her and the child arose a most terrific uproar of
commination; both together yelled such foulness and blasphemy as can
only be conceived by those who have made a special study of this
vocabulary, and the vituperation of the child was, if anything,
richer in quality than the mother's. The former, moreover, did not
confine herself to words, but all at once sent her clenched fist
through every pain of glass in the window, heedless of the fearful
cuts she inflicted upon herself, and uttering a wild yell of triumph
at each fracture. Mr. Woodstock was too late to save his property,