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? ? ? ? So she dropped the lump into my lap, just at that moment, and I clapped my legs together on it and she went on talking. But only about a minute. Then she took off the hank and looked me straight in the face, but very pleasant, and says:

? ? ? ? "Come, now- what's your real name?"

? ? ? ? "Wh- what, mum?"

? ? ? ? "What's your real name? Is it Bill, or Tom, or Bob?- or what is it?"

? ? ? ? I reckon I shook like a leaf, and I didn't know hardly what to do. But I says:

? ? ? ? "Please to don't poke fun at a poor girl like me, mum. If I'm in the way, here, I'll-"

? ? ? ? "No, you won't. Set down and stay where you are. I ain't going to hurt you, and I ain't going to tell on you, nuther. You just tell me your secret, and trust me. I'll keep it; and what's more, I'll help you. So'll my old man, if you want him to. You see, you're a runaway 'prentice- that's all. It ain't anything. There ain't any harm in it. You've been treated bad, and you made up your mind to cut.


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