“Oh yes, sir, very, very poor; an’ he’s got nobody but me to take care of him.”
“If that be so, who is taking care of him just now?” asked Matty, who had joined her brother, leaving another “worker” at the harmonium to play the people out,—a difficult thing to do, by the way, for the people seemed very unwilling to go.
You see, among other things, Jack Frost and Sons could gain no footing in that hall, and the people knew only too well that the firm was in great force awaiting them outside.
“Nobody’s takin’ care on ’im, ma’am,” replied Martha, somewhat shyly. “I locked ’im in, an’ he’s takin’ care of hisself.”
“Would you like to give grandfather anything in particular, little woman, if a fairy were to offer to give it you?”
“Oh, wouldn’t I just?”
“Yes? What would you ask for?”
Martha pursed her little mouth and knitted her brows in thought for a minute. Then she said slowly, “I’d ask for a mug of hot soup, an’ a blanket, an’ some coals, and—oh! I forgot, a teapot, for ours is cracked an’ won’t ’old in now.”
“Do you live far from this hall?” asked Tom.
“No, sir, quite close.”