At last I was obliged to give up and go to
journey-work; but when I got old I couldn't see, and was put in
here."
"But," said Zachariah, "is that all? Why, you are nearly seventy
years old. You must have something more to tell me."
"No. I don't know as I have; that seems about all."
"But what became of your father? He was well off. What became of
his money when he died?"
"I'd had my share."
"Had you no brothers nor sisters to help you?"
"Yes, I had some."
"Did they let you come here?"
"Why, you see, as I've told you before, I was dull, and my wife
wasn't strong. They never came much to see me. It was my fault; I
never had nothing to say to them."
"Had you no children?"
"Yes, I had a son and daughter."
"Are they alive now?"
"Yes--both of them; at least I haven't heard as they are dead."
"And able to keep themselves?"
"They used to be."
"And do you mean that your son and daughter let you go to the
workhouse?"
The old man was a little disturbed, and for a moment some slight sign
of nervous excitement revealed itself in his lustreless eyes.
"I haven't see anything of 'em for years."
"Did you quarrel?"
"No, we didn't quarrel; but they left off visiting us.
Pages:
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206