was paid. And beside, the baby's cried so, I've had to 'tend him the whole forenoon, and could n't go out.'
'Then you a' n't a-goin' to give us any dinner, are you?' said Jerry, with a reproachful tone and look. 'I pity the man that has a helpless, shiftless wife; he has a hard row to hoe. What's become of that fish I brought in yesterday?'
'Why, Mr. Guttridge,' said his wife, with tears in her eyes, 'you and the children ate that fish for your supper last night. I never tasted a morsel of it, and have n't tasted any thing but potatoes these two days; and I'm so faint now, I can hardly stand.'
'Always a-grumblin'," said Jerry; 'I can't never come into the house, but what I must hear a fuss about something or other. What's this boy snivelling about?' he continued, turning to little Bobby, his oldest boy, a little ragged, dirty-faced, sickly-looking thing, about six years old; at the same time giving the child a box on the ear, which laid him his length on the floor. 'Now shet up!' said Jerry, 'or I'll learn you to be crying about all day for nothing.'
'The tears rolled afresh down the cheeks of Mrs. Guttridge; she sighed heavily, as she raised the child from the floor, and seated him on a bench, on the opposite side of the room.
'What is Bob crying about?' said Jerry, fretfully.
'Why, Mr. Guttridge,' said his wife, sinking upon the bench beside her little boy, and wiping his tears with her apron, 'the poor child has been crying for a piece of bread these two hours. He 's ate nothin' to-day, but one potato, and I s'pose the poor thing is half starved.'
At this moment their neighbor, Mr. Nat. Frier, a substantial farmer, and a worthy man, made his appearance at the door; and as it was wide open, he walked in, and took a seat. He knew the destitute condition of Guttridge's family, and had often relieved their distresses. His visit at the present time was partly an errand of charity; for, being in want of some extra labor in his haying-field that afternoon, and knowing that Jerry was doing nothing, while his family was starving, he thought he would endeavor to get him to work for him, and pay him in provisions.
Jerry seated himself rather sullenly on a broken-backed chair, the only sound one in the house being occupied by Mr. Frier, toward whom he cast sundry gruff looks and surly glances. The truth was, Jerry had not received the visits of his neighbors, of late years, with a very gracious welcome. He regarded them rather as spies, who came to search out the nakedness of the land, than as neighborly visitors, calling to exchange friendly salutations. He said not a word; and the first address of Mr. Frier was to little Bobby.
'What 's the matter with little Bobby?' said he, in a gentle tone; 'come, my little fellow, come here and tell me what's the matter.'
'Go, run, Bobby; go and see Mr. Frier,' said the mother, slightly pushing him forward with her hand.
The boy, with one finger in his mouth, and the tears still rolling over his dirty face, edged along side-ways up to Mr. Frier, who took him in his lap, and asked him again what was the matter.
'I want a piece of bread!' said Bobby.
'And wont your mother give you some?' said Mr. Frier, tenderly.
