"Poor,
tired foot! ain't it a dreadful long walk, sonny?"
"Pretty long, mother; but I'd take twice that to do such work at the
end."
"Yes, indeed, it's good work, and Mr. Surrey's a good man, and a kind
one, that's sure! I only wish some others had a little of his spirit.
Such a shame to have you dragging all the way up here, when any dirty
fellow that wants to can ride. I don't mind for myself so much, for I
can walk about spry enough yet, and don't thank them for their old
omnibuses nor cars; but it's too bad for you, so it is,--too bad!"
"Never mind, mother! keep a brave heart. 'There's a good time coming
soon, a good time coming!' as I heard Mr. Hutchinson sing the other
night,--and it's true as gospel."
"Maybe it is, sonny!" dubiously, "but I don't see it,--not a sign of
it,--no indeed, not one! It gets worse and worse all the time, and it
takes a deal of faith to hold on; but the good Lord knows best, and
it'll be right after a while, anyhow! And now _that's_ straight!"
pulling a soft slipper on the lame foot, and putting its mate by his
side; then going off to pour out the tea, and dish up the stew, and add
a touch or two to the appetizing supper-table.
"It's as good as a feast,"--taking a bite out of her nice home-made
bread,--"better'n a feast, to think of you in that place; and I can't
scarcely realize it yet. It seems too fine to be true.
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