"Look 'ere, Lizzie," he would say cheerily. "Two 'arps is quite enough for one family and, as you and 'Earty are sure of 'em, you leave me alone."
One of Mrs. Bindle's principal complaints against Bindle was that he never took her out.
"You could take me out fast enough once," she would complain.
"But where'm I to take you?" cried Bindle. "You don't like the pictures, you won't go to the 'alls, and I can't stand that smelly little chapel of yours, listenin' to a cove wot tells you 'ow uncomfortable you're goin' to be when you're cold meat."
"You could take me for a walk, couldn't you?" demanded Mrs. Bindle.
"When I takes you round the 'ouses, you bully-rags me because I cheer-o's my pals, and if we passes a pub you makes pleasant little remarks about gin-palaces. Tell you wot it is, Mrs. B.," he remarked on one occasion, "you ain't good company, at least not in this world," he added.
"That's right, go on," Mrs. Bindle would conclude. "Why did you marry me?"
"There, Mrs. B.," he would reply, "you 'ave me beaten."
From the moment that Mrs. Bindle read of the Bishop of Fulham's Summer-Camps for Tired Workers, she became obsessed by the idea of a holiday in a summer-camp. She was one of the first to apply for the literature that was advertised as distributed free.
The evening-paper that Bindle brought home possessed a new interest for her.