Here the gentleman that lost the bills said, “This poor child is enough to make a man weep for the miseries of human nature, and be thankful for himself; he puts tears into my eyes.” “And into mine too,” says the other.
“Well, but hark ye, Jacque,” says the first gentleman, “do they give you no money when they send you of errands?”
“They give me victuals,” said I, “and that’s better.”
“But what,” says he, “do you do for clothes?”
“They give me sometimes old things,” said I, “such as they have to spare.”
“Why, you have never a shirt on, I believe,” said he, “have you?”
“No; I never had a shirt,” said I, “since my nurse died.”
“How long ago is that?” said he.
“Six winters, when this is out,” said I.
“Why, how old are you?” said he.