"I know it isn't; but I'm getting different to mysel'; I feel I am changing. I wadn't heed if t' bairns and t' wife had enough to live on; but they're pinched--they're pined----"
"Well, my lad, and so are you; I see you are. These are grievous times; I see suffering wherever I turn. William, sit down. Grace, sit down. Let us talk it over."
And in order the better to talk it over, Mr. Hall lifted the least of the children on to his knee, and placed his hand on the head of the next least; but when the small things began to chatter to him he bade them "Whisht!" and fixing his eyes on the grate, he regarded the handful of embers which burned there very gravely.

"I know; but I feel I am changing. T' bairns and t' wife are that pinched-"
"Well, my lad, and so are you. These are grievous times; I see suffering wherever I turn. Sit down, and let us talk it over."
Mr. Hall lifted the smallest child on to his knee, and placed his hand on the head of the next smallest.
