W. Pett Ridge

“ Mord Em'ly was busily serving the customers in the various pews, taking orders, and running to the back to hurry the cook with encouragement and reproach, finding newspapers for those desirous of combining study with restoration of the body, telling an insurgent match-boy to get outside before she forced him to do so, and keeping ever a watchful eye on departing customers, when a youth, of medium height, broad-shouldered, bullet-headed, square-chinned, pushed open the glass doors, and looked round. ”

“ Mord Em'ly, despatched one Sunday morning to Deptford to buy a Lloyd's for Mrs. Mitchell, and a Ladies' Fashions for Miss Mitchell, found herself stopped near the Broadway by the sound of Mr. Wetherell's voice. She went across, and, at the edge of the small crowd, listened. There were several groups on the triangular space; one around a man selling birds; another listening, in a casual way, to a Russian, who, with a strong accent, was denouncing the laws of England: "You air the vorst gind of shlaves, my goot frients; you are shlaves mitout knowing dot you are shlaves" ”

“ The week-days were so busily occupied that they demanded no consideration; it was only Sundays that called for management—so much, indeed, that the little woman sometimes dreaded their approach. In the week melancholy claimed her only at the occasional periods when customers were few at Mitchell's dining-rooms, and refused to be lured by its enticing oblong slips, or its exposition of eatables in the window. ”