Taking his pipe from his mouth he examined the trousers critically. “Hm!” he said again.
“My Mammy’s blue skirt,” Tommy explained, proudly, while he reversed his position. He now stood on the left leg and thrust forward the right.
“Hallo!” he cried, for Mammy was approaching to bring him in to bed.
“Tommy ’e do tell me ’e’ve gotten noo trousers.”
Mammy nodded.
“Made out o’ your blue skirt, Ellen Tregennis?”
Mammy nodded and smiled.
“You’m gotten as good a little woman as ever is in the world for your Mammy, Tommy.” Old John looked at Mrs. Tregennis, who laughed in acknowledgement of the compliment.
“We’m forced to do as careful as we can,” she said. “When Tom can’t go neither boulter-fishin’ nor whiffin’ we be livin’ on our means like the gintry; then I make clothes for Tommy, so’s he’ll be respectable. ’Taint no mortal use, Old John, for we to look small and be small both, so there’s where ’tis to.”