So I kept myself to myself, my dear, for I'm short-tempered at the best, and could never put up with the abuse of a man in liquor." I was so thoroughly converted to the side of Ragged Robin's wife, that I at once pressed some of my charity money on Mrs.Bundle for her benefit; but I tried to dispute my nurse's unfavourable view of husbands by instancing her worthy brother-in-law at Oakford.
"Ah, yes, Buckle," said Mrs.Bundle, in a tone which seemed to do less justice to the saddler's good qualities than they deserved.

"He's a good, soft, easy body, is Buckle." Whence I concluded that Mrs.Bundle, like some other ladies, was not altogether easy to please.
I think it was during our last walk through the village before Mr.
Clerke left us, that he and I called on Ragged Robin's wife.

She was thankful, but not communicative, and the eyes, deep set in her bony and discoloured face, seemed to have lost the power of lighting up with hope.
"My dear Regie," said Mr.Clerke, as we turned homewards, "I never saw anything more pitiable than the look in that woman's eyes; and the tone in which she said, 'There be a better world afore us all, sir--I'll be well off then,' when I said I hoped she'd be better off and happier now, quite went to my heart.

I'm afraid she never will have much comfort in this world, unless she outlives her lord and master.

Do you know, Regie, she reminds me very much of an ill-treated donkey; her bones look so battered, and there's a sort of stubborn hopelessness about her like some poor Neddy who is thwacked and tugged this way and that, work he never so hard.