'What bizerness 'as he to summings me,' she says, pointing to the officer, 'just cus my boy ain't bin fur a week? He's 'arsh and harbitury, that's what he is.'Arsh and harbitury! D'ye think I ain't got anything to do without a-trapesin' down here a-losin' my work? I tell ye what it is——'
The chairman mildly interposes: 'My good lady——'
'Don't good lady me. I ain't a lady. If I was you daren't treat me like it, you daren't; it's only because I'm——'
'My good woman, will you allow me to say one word?'
'Oh—yes—certainly—if you've got anything to say—go on.'
Thus encouraged, the chairman points out to the voluble lady that her son has not been to school for a fortnight.
'Well, it's all through the boots.'
'Boots!' says the chairman; 'why, that was what you said last time, and we gave you an order on a shoemaker for a pair.'
The woman acknowledges this is so. Some charitable people have started a fund to let a few bad cases have boots, and this truant has been one of the first recipients.
'I know you was kind enough to do that,' says the mother, 'but they 'urt him, and he can't wear 'em.'