Horatio Alger

“ Come in again when you feel hungry, and Bridget Flanagan won't be the woman to send you off hungry if she's got anything in the cupboard."
"I wish Mother Watson was as good as you are," said Mark.
"I ain't so good as I might be, said Mrs. Flanagan; "but I wouldn't be guilty of tratin' a poor boy as that woman trates you, more chame to her! How came you with her any way? She ain't your mother, is she."
"No," said Mark, shuddering at the bare idea. "My mother was a good woman, and worked hard. She didn't drink whisky. Mother was always kind to me. I wish she was alive now." ”

“ Here, Mark, lad, sit down, and I'll bring you something that'll warm your poor little stomach.
She opened a cupboard, and brought out a plate con- taining a small quantity of cold beef, and two slices of bread.
"There's some better mate than you'll get of Mother Watson. It's cold, but it's good."
"She never gives any meat at all," said Mark, gazing with a look of eager anticipation at the plate which to his famished eye looked so inviting. ”

“ She clutched Mark by the collar, and was about to bring the strap down forcibly on his back, ill protected by his thin jacket, when a visitor entered the room.
"What's the matter, Mrs. Watson?" asked the intruder.
"Oh, it's you, Mrs. Flanagan?" said the woman, hold- ing the strap suspended in the air. "I'll tell you what's the matter. This little thief has come home, after selling only three boxes of matches the whole day, and I find he's stole a penny to to buy an apple with. It's for that I'm goin' to beat him." ”