"'Tisn' bad—very nice," remarked Tony, bending before the picture, examining it in all lights. "Iss; 'tisn' bad by no means. Come yer, Jimmy an' Tommy. Do 'ee know who that ther is?"
"Rosie!" whispered Jimmy.
"What was took up to cementry," added Tommy in a brighter voice.
"Iss, 'tis our li'l Rosie to the life (mustn' touch), jest like her was."
A moment's tension; then, "A surprise for 'ee, en' it?" Mrs Widger enquired.
"My ol' geyser!"
The children's riot began again. "Our Rosie...." they were saying. Mam 'Idger, slipping out of Tony's grasp, carried the picture off to the front room. She was sometime gone.
Wordsworth's We are Seven came into my mind:
"But they are dead; those two are dead!
Their spirits are in heaven!"