“Oh, yes, Ma’am, but he’s out all day busy, and I’ve no one to talk to me as mammy used; for Peggy is quite deaf, and besides she’s always busy with the pigs and chickens.”
“I wish I had you, Billy, to take care of, and to teach, for your poor mother’s sake.”
“And so you may, Charlotte,” said her husband. “I’m sure Gahan, with all his odd ways, is too sensible a fellow not to know how much it would be for his child’s benefit to be brought up and educated by us, and the boy would be an amusement to us in this lonely house. I’ll speak to him about it before he goes home. Billy, my fine fellow, come here,” he continued, “jump up on my knee, and tell me if you’d like to live here always, and learn to read and write.”
“I would, Sir, if I could be with father too.”
“So you shall;—and what about old Peggy?”
The child paused—
“I’d like to give her a pen’north of snuff and a piece of tobacco every week, for she said the other day that that would make her quite happy.”
Mr. Hewson laughed, and Billy prattled on, still seated on his knee; when a noise of footsteps on the ground, mingled with low suppressed talking, was heard outside.
“James, listen! there’s the noise again.”
It was now nearly dark, but Mr. Hewson, still holding the boy in his arms, walked towards the window and looked out.