“Who, mum?” said Purkis, after a good wipe; “I don’t know, mum, I’m sure. I should like the Missus there to try, but she says she won’t.”
“Not if I know it, Joseph,” exclaimed his lady, as if in doubt whether she might commence the undertaking in ignorance. “Not if I know it, Joseph,” she exclaimed, polishing an iron with a duster, after giving it a vicious rub in the ashes. “If a married woman hasn’t enough to do to mind her own house and bits of things, it’s a pity. The church has got you, and has you a deal away from the business with weddings and such; and besides, I never opened pews, and I’m too old to learn now.”
“Perhaps Mrs Purkis will think better of it,” said Mrs Jared.
“Better of it! No, ma’am; nor worse, neither. I shall never commit myself by doing of it, as I’ve told Joseph a score of times.”
“Then, under those circumstances, perhaps Mr Purkis would not mind helping a friend of ours to obtain that post?”
“Friend of yours, mum?” said Purkis, eagerly; “I’d do all I could in my way, mum, though that wouldn’t be much. But,” he exclaimed, as a bright thought seemed to strike him, “I could keep other people away.”
“But that would hardly be fair,” observed Mrs Jared.
“Perhaps we had better not go into that part of the business, mum,” said Mr Purkis, with dignity. “Elections is things as ladies don’t understand; and those in elections have to serve their own friends, and serve out their enemies. What we want to do is to remember Mr Pellet’s kindness.”
“Which we shall never forget,” chimed in Mrs Purkis, looking up from her ironing in support of her husband’s allusion to Jared’s “donus,” and a timely loan supplied at a time when Mr Purkis had got himself into what he termed “a mess” by obliging a friend in a bill transaction.
“’Taint every one as will put himself to inconvenience and help them as is pushed,” said Mr Purkis.