“And off we go back to England same as we came!” He rubbed his head, and drew a big, worried sigh. “Where's them going?” he asked, pointing to some newly laundered clothing on a side table. “You haven't forgotten 'em, have you?”
“No, Father. It's just some of the young men's washing. I thought I'd take time to mend them up a bit before I went to bed.”
“That's like tha mother, too—taking care of everybody. What did these chaps do before you came?”
“Sometimes they tried to sew on a button or so themselves, but oftener they went without. Men make poor work of sewing. It oughtn't to be expected of them.”
Hutchinson stopped and looked her and her mending over with a touch of curiosity.
“Some of them's Tembarom's?” he asked.
Little Ann held up a pair of socks.
“These are. He does wear them out, poor fellow. It's tramping up and down the streets to save car-fare does it. He's never got a heel to his name. But he's going to be able to buy some new ones next week.”
Hutchinson began his tramp again.
“He'll miss thee, Little Ann; but so'll the other lads, for that matter.”