Sally. Are there?
Mrs. M. Yes, to be sure. Don’t you know what a number of poor people there are all around us, who have few of the comforts we enjoy? What do you think of Ploughman the labourer? I believe you never saw him idle in your life.
Sally. No; he is gone to work long before I am up, and he does not return till almost bedtime, unless it be for his dinner.
Mrs. M. Well! how do you think his wife and children live? should you like that we should change places with them?
Sally. O, no! they are so dirty and ragged.
Mrs. M. They are, indeed, poor creatures; but I am afraid they suffer worse evils than that.
Sally. What mamma?
Mrs. M. Why I am afraid they often do not get as much victuals as they could eat. And then in winter they must be half frozen for want of fire and warm clothing. How do you think you could bear all this?
Sally. Indeed, I don’t know. But I have seen Ploughman’s wife carry great brown loaves into the house; and I remember once eating some brown bread and milk, and I thought it very good.
Mrs. M. I believe you would not much like it constantly; besides, they can hardly get enough of that. But you seem to know almost as little of the poor as the young French princess did.