If I drop a bit of bread at pit, in all the dust an' dirt, I pick it up an' eat it." "The mice would eat it," said Paul.

"It wouldn't be wasted." "Good bread-an'-butter's not for mice, either," said Morel.

"Dirty or not dirty, I'd eat it rather than it should be wasted." "You might leave it for the mice and pay for it out of your next pint," said Mrs.Morel.
"Oh, might I ?" he exclaimed.
They were very poor that autumn.

William had just gone away to London, and his mother missed his money.

He sent ten shillings once or twice, but he had many things to pay for at first.