He separated them with some difficulty, and then returned to his work.
Pat had been pleased when his father told him he might work alone, and have all he could earn; but now he found it not so pleasant. Though he would not have confessed it, he missed Dilly's cheerful voice and sunny smile. The morning seemed very long, and by the time he sat down to eat a crust of bread which he had brought for his dinner, he had half determined to go home.
A few days before this, a party of ladies and gentlemen came into the field to watch the men, women, and children at their work. They stopped near the lot his father had selected and began to talk with a couple who were busily engaged in sorting rags. Pat had been near enough to hear what was said.
"You have a large pile of rubbish there," said one lady. "Do you make much by it?"
"And sure, ma'am," the woman answered, "we get a living; but it's a hard way."
"Tell us how you manage," said a gentleman.
"It's jist this way, sir," interrupted the man. "We comes here and takes each our own lot, striving, of coorse, for the best, sure. Then we sets ourselves to work to find what we can. Sometimes there's very little, and then again, there's more. My woman and I first picks out all the coal, putting it in one pile, and the junk in another, like this."
"But what can you do with those rotten pumpkins and potatoes?"
"And sure, that's a fine chance for us, ma'am. We live out of the city a bit, and kape a cow and a pig, besides a horse and a hen; so it's bad luck, indeed, if we don't find something to feed them all with."
"You are better off than I thought," rejoined the lady, smiling. "I suppose you own a cart, too, and carry your treasures home in it."