divided the yearnings of his spirit between strong drink and
dog-fights. Mrs. Button, a viperous Londoner, yearned for noise.
When Mr. Button came home drunk he punched his wife about the head
and kicked her about the body, while they both exhausted the
vocabulary of vituperation of North and South, to the horror and
edification of the neighbourhood. When Mr. Button was sober Mrs.
Button chastised little Paul. She would have done so when Mr. Button
was drunk, but she had not the time. The periods, therefore, of his
mother's martyrdom were those of Paul's enfranchisement. If he saw
his stepfather come down the street with steady gait, he fled in
terror; if he saw him reeling homeward he lingered about with light
and joyous heart.

The brood of young Buttons was fed spasmodically and clad at random,
but their meals were regular and their raiment well assorted
compared with Paul's. Naturally they came in for clouts and thumps
like all the children in Budge Street; it was only Paul who
underwent organized chastisement. The little Buttons often did
wrong; but in the mother's eyes Paul could never do right. In an
animal way she was fond of the children of Button, and in a way
equally animal she bore a venomous dislike to the child of
Keg-worthy. Who and what Kegworthy had been neither Paul nor any
inhabitant of Bludston knew. Once the boy inquired, and she broke a
worn frying-pan over his head. Kegworthy, whoever he might have
been, was wrapt in mystery. She had appeared in the town when Paul
was a year old, giving herself out as a widow. That she was by no
means destitute was obvious from the fact that she at once rented
the house in Budge Street, took in lodgers, and lived at her ease.
Button, who was one of the lodgers, cast upon her the eyes of desire
and married her. Why she married Button she could never determine.