The ham was never too good in Liverpool, but she 'oped that it wasn't "reesty." I solemnly declared that it was not "reesty." But Mrs.Chaffin and Mr.Chaffin out of the goodness of their hearts continued to condole with me on the score that such ham tasted and must taste "reesty" to one not used to it.

I had no sooner satisfied their misgivings concerning the ham than I was compelled to take issue with them as to the bread, regarding which they entertained a lurking suspicion of staleness.

During all of this discussion about the ham, the tea and the bread, I was conscious that a pair of big brown eyes, darkly shaded with long lashes, were staring at me across the table.

Whenever I had the courage to glance that way I observed that they had been looking at me intently, and were suddenly averted.

These wondering eyes belonged to the only daughter in the family.
"They've all been boys," said Mrs.Chaffin, "since Hetty was born." I thought it strange that the H in her daughter's name was the only one that the good woman had shown the ability to manage.
"Hetty is the only one of the lot that takes to books," she continued.
"The head master told me she will make a good scholar, and dear a me! she does nothing but read books from mornin' till night." While Hetty and her mother removed the dishes we drew our chairs about the fire, and Mr.Chaffin, a blunt, simple-minded man, entertained me with sage observations regarding politics and the weather.