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 and cannot find much fault with his extra dose of sleep on Sunday morning. He doesn't look like one of the topers. His eyes are bright, and his weather-beaten face the picture of health. All the women are busy—making beds, getting breakfast, some baking, some cooking already for the dinner; most of them, as we catch glimpses of them at the doors, look worried and driven, careful and troubled about many things, and evidently completely deprived of anything like Sunday's rest. At one hut which we pass the landlady comes to the door and wishes us good morning. She is a very comfortable woman, with a bright cheerful face; she is clean and neat, and appears, unlike her neighbours, to have no pressing work on hand.

"Good morning, Mrs, Sharp; how are you this morning?" "First-rate, thank you, sir; and how's yourself? Won't you step in a bit, I'm all alone." "All at school?" I say, as we accept the invitation. "Oh yes, they're all gone, and a good job it is for them and for me too." "Yes, you get a quieter Sunday than your neighbours do." " Aye, that I do, sir, and much need of it. We women is worked like slaves. With nine or ten men to look after and wait on there aint much rest, and as for a bit of quiet for reading or thinking about one's soul, it isn't for the likes of us. I'm very thankful for my Sundays, I can tell you, sir. I've got a good set of lodgers—they're very good chaps, and don't give near so much trouble as some. I got a fresh one in yesterday. I didn't much care about having any more, but there was room for one, and I didn't want to offend Mr.—— so I took him; but I just told him he'd have to behave himself like the rest. He didn't much want to go to school this morning, but the others talked him round,