With two bounds Tim was back in his place, and little Pine again bent over her task; for there was a heavy step upon the staircase, and as it stopped at the door, Tim grunted, and slowly shuffled off his board to replace his iron in the fire after giving it a loud clink upon the stand.
“Now, my dear,” said Tim, loudly, “we ain’t getting on so fast as we oughter. ‘Bear no malice.’”
“‘Bear no malice,’” repeated the child, looking up at him, with a quaint smile upon her little pinched lips.
“‘Nor hatred in my heart,’” said Tim; and then dolefully, “why don’t you look at your work?”
“‘Nor hatred in my heart,’” said the child, whose little face, then again upturned, showed that, if there were truth in looks, malice or hatred had never entered her breast.
“Louder, ever so much,” whispered Tim, “and don’t yer get whipped whilst I’m at Pellet’s, there’s a pet. ‘Keep my hands from picking and stealing,’” he continued, aloud.
“‘From picking and stealing,’” said the child, softly.
“She’d better, that’s all I can say,” came from the doorway; and Mrs Ruggles closed the portal, and then swung round again, right about face, and confronted her husband, “perhaps some one else will keep his tongue from evil-speaking, lying, and so on.”
“I’m blessed,” muttered Tim, “that’s rather hot.”
“Of course it is,” exclaimed Mrs Ruggles, who only caught the latter part of the sentence, and applied it to the fire. “Such waste of coals. I suppose that girl’s been shovelling them on as if they cost nothing.”