"‘This room and these children are no cleaner than they were a week ago,' says she, as though the least she eggspected was that we'd all got noo clo'es an' 'ad the room pipered an' white-woshed.
"‘No—there's a week's more dirt on 'em, natrally, yore 'oliness,' says Muvver. 'You yoreself ain't no younger than you wos a week ago—but I got more sense 'n to say so!'
"‘That baby's nose is simply filthy,' says the lidy, ap'intin' to pore young 'Meliar alyin' on a sack o' rags, bein' ill as usual.
"‘Then fer Gord's sike blow it for 'er, Mum,' says Muvver, 'an do somethink useful terday, if yer niver did before.'
"The kind lidy sniffs as though 'er own nose could do with a treat o' that sort.
"‘Cleanliness comes next to Godliness,' ses she.
"‘Yus—an' 'ungriness come before eiver of 'em,' says Muvver. 'If you'd bin man enough to 'ave five kids yerself, an' they wos astarvin' before yer bloomin' eyes, would yer bung 'em up wiv Gordliness or cleanliness fust? Or would yer work yer fingers to the bone to git 'em food
