'Well, sir,' he said, hesitating a little; 'me and my missus, we have a
room as we lets sometimes, but it's a poor place, sir, homely like, as
ye may say. Maybe you wouldn't put up with it.'
'Would you let me see it?' I asked.
'With pleasure, sir; it's rough, but it's clean. We could promise you a
clean pan, sir. My missus she's a good one for cleaning; she's not one
of them slatternly, good-for-nothing lasses. There's heaps of them here,
sir, idling away their time. She's a good girl is my Polly. Why, if that
isn't little John a-clambering up the steps to his daddy!'
He jumped up as he said this, and ran quickly down the steep flight of
steps which led down from the height on which the seat was placed, and
soon returned with a little lad about two years old in his arms.
The child was as fair as his father was dark. He was a pretty boy with
light hair and blue eyes, and was tidily dressed in a bright red cap and
clean white-pinafore.
'Tea's ready, daddy,' said the boy; 'come home with little John.'
'Maybe you wouldn't object to a cup o' tea, sir,' said the father,
turning to me; 'it'll hearten you up a bit after your journey, and
there's sure to be herrings.
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