Don't think to come over me
with th' old tale, that the rich know nothing of the trials of the
poor; I say, if they don't know, they ought to know. We're their
slaves as long as we can work; we pile up their fortunes with the
sweat of our brows, and yet we are to live as separate as if we were
in two worlds; ay, as separate as Dives and Lazarus, with a great
gulf betwixt us: but I know who was best off then," and he wound
up his speech with a low chuckle that had no mirth in it.
"Well, neighbour," said Wilson, "all that may be very true, but what
I want to know now is about Esther--when did you last hear of her?"
"Why, she took leave of us that Sunday night in a very loving way,
kissing both wife Mary, and daughter Mary (if I must not call her
'little'), and shaking hands with me; but all in a cheerful sort of
manner, so we thought nothing about her kisses and shakes. But on
Wednesday night comes Mrs. Bradshaw's son with Esther's box, and
presently Mrs. Bradshaw follows with the key; and when we began to
talk, we found Esther told her she was coming back to live with us,
and would pay her week's money for not giving notice; and on Tuesday
night she carried off a little bundle (her best clothes were on her
back, as I said before) and told Mrs.
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