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So 'cardenly, I laid into the mess of it, workin' off the bank where the trees was drownin' themselves head-down in the roosh just such weather as this an' the brook creepin' up on me all the time. 'Long toward noon, Jim comes mowchin' along with his toppin' axe over his shoulder. "Be you minded for an extra hand at your job?" he says. "Be you minded to turn to?"
'Cardenly we pulled it in into a shaller, an' it rolled a piece, an' a great old stiff man's arm nigh hit me in the face. Then we was sure. "'Tis a man," ses Jim. But the face was all a mask. "I reckon it's Mary's Lunnon father," he ses presently. "Lend me a match and I'll make sure." He never used baccy.
'Cardenly, twixt 'em, they asked for a child from one o' those Lunnon societies same as it might ha' been these Barnardo children an' Mary was sent down to 'em, in a candle-box, I've heard. 'Then Mary is chance-born. I never knowed that, said Jabez. 'Yet I must ha' heard it some time or other ... 'No. She ain't. 'Twould ha' been better for some folk if she had been.
"Why, 'twas half full last week, mother," he ses. "You don't mean," he ses, "you've given him all that as well? It's two shillin's worth," he ses. But I don't grudge it to him," he ses. "I don't grudge him nothin' he can keep." So, 'cardenly, we drinked up what little sup was left. 'An' what come to Mary's Lunnon father? said Jabez after a full minute's silence.
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