"'Oose baby?" repeated Wilfered.
"My baby," said the child.
"You bin 'ere afore about your baby?" inquired the 'Pothecary.
"No," said the messenger.
"Oh," mused Wilfered. "What name?"
"'Ilder," said the messenger.
"Mother's name, I mean," explained Wilfered.
"Mrs. Bates, Mulberry Street," said Mrs. Bates's emissary.
And Wilfered repeated his formula: "Tell yere mother as we'll give 'er the powder this once, but nex' time you must send to the chimmis. We don't sell powders yere."
Mrs. Bates's daughter, having received her powder, and being as yet without a proper understanding, deposited the penny with which she had been entrusted upon the ledge of Wilfered's peep-hole, and bolted from the waiting-room.