At their little unsteady pace, they came across the floor, hand-in-hand, as if they were traversing an extremely difficult road intersected by brooks, and, when they had had their heads patted by Mrs Betty Higden, made lunges at the orphan, dramatically representing an attempt to bear him, crowing, into captivity and slavery.

All the three children enjoyed this to a delightful extent, and the sympathetic Sloppy again laughed long and loud.

When it was discreet to stop the play, Betty Higden said 'Go to your seats Toddles and Poddles,' and they returned hand-in-hand across country, seeming to find the brooks rather swollen by late rains.
'And Master--or Mister--Sloppy ?' said the Secretary, in doubt whether he was man, boy, or what.
'A love-child,' returned Betty Higden, dropping her voice; 'parents never known; found in the street.

He was brought up in the--' with a shiver of repugnance, '-- the House.' 'The Poor-house ?' said the Secretary.
Mrs Higden set that resolute old face of hers, and darkly nodded yes.
'You dislike the mention of it.' 'Dislike the mention of it ?' answered the old woman.

'Kill me sooner than take me there.