she didn't.
Mr. Jukesbury sighed.
"A naughty world," said he, with pathos--"a very naughty world, which
really does not deserve the honour of including you in its census
reports. Yet I dare say it has the effrontery to put you down in the
tax-lists; it even puts me down--me, an humble worker in the vineyard,
with both hands set to the plough. And if I don't pay up it sells
me out. A very naughty world, indeed! I dare say," Mr. Jukesbury
observed, raising his eyes--not toward heaven, but toward the Eagle,
"that its conduct, as the poet says, creates considerable distress