"Won't I, though?" For the first time in her life Hannah Mulvaney threw both arms around her mother's neck, giving her a regular bear hug.
At that moment Welcome Hodgkins was returning across the fields to his lonely home. "A happy family," he muttered, knocking blooms from the clover with his stick.
"When are you coming home, Hannah?" asked Chinky. "It's awful lonesome without you."
"Well I geth it ith," added Stubbins.
"I'm going to stay three weeks more," Hannah replied, "and, oh, ma, does table clothing cost much?"
"There's some that's dear, and some that ain't,—why?"
"Can't we buy some, ma, and do things the way other folks do?"
Mrs. Mulvaney sighed. "When I was a girl at home," she said, "we had things right, and after I married your pa I tried to do as my mother did, but children, it was no use. Your pa was out of work so much, and his health wasn't good,"—Mrs. Mulvaney never referred to the fact that Mr. Mulvaney was a drunkard,—"and somehow I got discouraged, and I ain't brought you young ones up right. Now I feel glad and thankful we've got enough to eat and wear and a good house to live in, but it's too late for tablecloths."
"Why?"