"No need for 'im to be 'ungry, if 'e 'ad the sperrit of a man,"said Cook practically. "Ain't she 'is daughter?"

"Well, yes, in a manner of speakin'," exclaimed Eliza doubtfully. "Butthere ain't much of father an' daughter about them two. I'd ruther'ave my ole man, down W'itechapel way; 'e can belt yer a fairterror, w'en 'e's drunk, but 'e'll allers tike yer out an' buy yera kipper arterwards. Thet's on'y decent, fatherly feelin'."

"Well, Master don't belt 'er, does 'e?"

"No; but 'e don't buy 'er the kipper, neither. An' I'd ruther 'avethe beltin' from my ole man, even wivout no kipper, than 'ave usallers lookin' at each other as if we was wooden images. Even abeltin' shows as 'ow a man 'as some regard for 'is daughter."

"It do," exclaimed Cook. "Pity is, you ain't 'ad more of it, that's theonly thing!"

CHAPTER III

PLAYING TRUANT