As she left the house eight o'clock chimed from the steeple of a near church, and Mrs.Kebby, clinking her newly-received wages in her pocket, hurried out of the square to do her Christmas marketing.

As she went down the street which led to it, Blinders, a burly, ruddy-faced policeman, who knew her well, stopped to make an observation.
"Is that good gentleman of yours home, Mrs.Kebby ?" he asked, in the loud tones used to deaf people.
"Oh, he's home," grumbled Mrs.Kebby ungraciously, "sittin' afore the fire like Solomon in all his glory.

What d'ye want to know for ?" "I saw him an hour ago," explained Blinders, "and I thought he looked ill." "So he do, like a corpse.

What of that?
We've all got to come to it some day.

'Ow d'ye know but what he won't be dead afore morning?
Well, I don't care.