Tony felt himself rather helpless. "Now then," he cried with a vain nourish, "off to bed wi' 'ee!"
"No!—No!—Shan't!—Us an't had no supper."
"Wer is yer supper? What be going to hae?"
"Don' know.—Mam! Mam 'Idger!"
One started crying, then the other.
"Casn' thee put 'em to bed thyself?" I asked.
"I don' know! Better wait.... Her's biding away a long time. I'll hae to talk to she."
Tony sat down in the courting chair. The two boys climbed one on each of his knees. They wriggled themselves comfortable, and fell asleep. He woke them. "Won' 'ee go to bed now? I wants to go out."
"No! No!" they cried peevishly. "Wer's thiccy Mam?"
Their white heads, turned downwards in sleep on either side of Tony's red weathered face, looked very patient and bud-like. Tony's eyes twinkled over them with a humorous helplessness, crossed occasionally by a shade of impatience. So the three of them waited for the household's source of energy to return. Tony had been wanting a glass of beer. He nearly slept too.