somehow gone wrong.

    `You dont call Mumps a cur, I suppose, said Maggie, divining t any interest sifying to er.

    `No, Miss, a fine , said Bob, ying smile, `Mumps is as fine a cross as youll see anyimes enoo. ry stops to look at  you  catc try much - he minds his own business - he does.

    to be tolerating tence of objects in general, rongly confirmatory of this high praise.

    ` me pat him?

    `Ay, t alk to oget o miscell  no secrets but humb, he does.

    `Your big ts t Bob? said Maggie.

    `ts  is, Miss, said Bob, quickly, exing a singularly broad specimen of t difference bet tells i measuring out ts ligs dear stuff, you see, so a big tells. I clap my t t o t, and t up tot.

    `But, Bob, said Maggie, looking serious, `ts cing: I dont like to .

    `Dont you, Miss? said Bob, regretfully. `t. But Im so used to talking to Mumps, an  mind a bit o cing,   t my dinner out ont. I niver c anybody as doesnt  to c me, Miss - lors, Im a  c  o sport, an no go s, In got no varmint to come over but them haggling women. I wish you good evening, Miss.

    `Goodby, Bob. to see tom.

    `Yes, Miss, said Bob, moving on a feeps; turning  trick  t, Miss - but it ud be a pity, it  find anotrick so good - an  might as well ha been narrer.

    Maggie, ted into Bobs directing Madonna, lauge of  oo, and under touched his cap and walked away.

    t gone, notanding Burkes grand dirge over till in t far-off  ouctle finger or tful an adoration for t in