“Umph!” she grunted, apparently satisfied with her scrutiny.
“Didn’t I tell you so?” said Tom.
Granny rose from her chair, and going to a shelf took down a piece of bread, which had become dry and hard.
“There’s your dinner,” said she.
“Gi’ me a penny to buy an apple,” said Tom,—rather by way of keeping up appearances than because she wanted one. Visions of a more satisfactory repast filled her imagination.
“You don’t want no apple. Bread’s enough,” said granny.
Tom was not much disappointed. She knew pretty well beforehand how her application would fare. Frequently she made sure of success by buying the apple and eating it before handing the proceeds of her morning’s work to the old woman. To-day she had other views, which she was in a hurry to carry out.
She took the bread, and ate a mouthful. Then she slipped it into her pocket, and said, “I’ll eat it as I go along, granny.”
To this the old woman made no objection, and Tom went out.
In the court-yard below she took out her crust, and handed it to a hungry-looking boy of ten, the unlucky offspring of drunken parents, who oftentimes was unable to command even such fare as Tom obtained.