"How much money have you got left, Catherine?"
She had threepence of your money.
"Can you manage with the loaf of bread then, and three-halfpence for to-day?"
"I have often managed on less," said she.
"Then give me three-halfpence to take out with me."
"But what are you going to do? We may have nothing to-morrow, and then the three-halfpence will be missed."
"Give!" said I, rather sternly, reflecting as I was on my scheme; "be assured, it is for our good."
My poor wife gave me the money with a very ill-grace, but without another word; and, rising, I went out. When in the street, I directed my footsteps toward the outskirts. They were soon reached. I halted before a tavern frequented wholly by workmen, and going into the public room, called for a choppe of beer. I had purposely chosen my position. Before me was a handsome, neatly-dressed young workman, who, like all his companions, was smoking and drinking beer. Quietly, without saying a word, I drew out a small note-book and a drawing-pencil. I was then considered a very good artist; but had only used my pencil to sketch models. But I now sketched the human face with care and anxiety. Presently, as my pencil was laid down, a man sitting next to me peeped over my shoulder.
"Why!" he cried, "that's Alexis to the life."
"How so?" said the man I had been sketching, holding out his hand, into which I put my note-book.