As I knew nothing of the cost of the necessaries of life, I went, by Mr.Andrewes' advice, to Nurse Bundle for help.
"What do beef and mutton cost ?" was my first question, as I sat with an important air at the nursery table, slate in hand.
"Now bless the dear boy's innocence ?" cried Mrs.Bundle.

"You may leave the beef and mutton, love.

It's not much meat a family gets that's reared on nine shillings a week." After a series of calculations for oatmeal-porridge, onion-potage, and other modest dainties, during which Mrs.Bundle constantly fell back on the "bits of things in the garden," I said decidedly-- "They can't have any clothes, so it's no good thinking about it." "Children can't be let go bare-backed," said Mrs.Bundle, with equal decision.

"She must take in washing.

For in all reason, boots can't be expected to come out of nine shillings a week, and as many mouths to feed." "She must take in washing, sir," I announced with a resigned air, and the old-fashioned gravity peculiar to me, when I returned to the Rectory next day.