"That is a mere pittance. She can't earn much at that rate."
"No, sir; she has to work hard to make one vest a day."
"The man can't have a conscience," said the gentleman, indignantly. "It is starvation wages."
"So it is, sir, but he pretends that he pays more than the work is worth. Oh, he's a mean fellow," pursued the boy, his face expressive of the scorn and disgust which he felt.
"What is your name, my boy?"
"Dan, sir—Dan Mordaunt."
"I hope, Dan, you make more money than your mother does."
"Oh, yes, sir. Sometimes I make a dollar a day, but I don't average that. I wish I could make enough so that mother wouldn't have to work."
"I see you are a good son. I like to hear you speak in such terms of your mother."
"If I didn't," said Dan, impetuously, "I should deserve to be kicked. She's a good mother, sir."