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 t' church last Sunday, and they were reading t' Psalms—'happy is he,' they read, at hes his quiver full on 'em.

"Aye," sighed the second old woman, "it all depends. It wor all varry weel for David to write that, 'cause he wor a king, and hed all t' money 'at he wanted, and house-room, and all; but it's different wi' poor folk. I've hed ten i' my time, and they tak' a deal o' bringing up."

"I've hed twelve," said Nanny, stoutly. "And I niver browt 'em up at all—they browt theirsens up. Bairns is like weeds—leave 'em alone, and they'll grow apace."

Mally now remarked that she had never heard such rubbish talked in all her born days. She was busily engaged in making pork-pies, and the old women were in her way, and the kitchen was further filled up by Hepworth and Elisabeth. She wanted each of them out of the way, and further resented the old women's remarks as to the blessedness of the married state, for she herself had