too young to take care of it properly. So the mother takes it up out of bed, wraps it in a shawl, and leaves it at the house of a neighbour woman on the way to the mill. The early morning air is raw or frosty—but the baby has not to mind that. The mother must be at the mill at six o'clock. At eight there is a break of half-an-hour for breakfast. There is not time to come home, so she eats her meal near the shed, wondering all the time how the children are getting along, and if the baby is well. Punctually at half-past eight they start work, and work until half-past twelve. Then home for dinner, which has to be prepared by the tired worker from the mill for herself and the children. Back she goes at half-past one, to work again until half-past five, the clanging and grinding of the machinery in her ears, the perspiration streaming from her face, her nerves on a continuous stretch lest something should go wrong and the cruel fine be imposed.
After having made the tea and enjoyed it, there are the household duties to do. With these the husband often helps. He cleans the windows, swills the street, polishes the boots, if he be as good as some
