'
"'H'm! A little sister of mine, I see,' said Uncle Peter to himself.
"'Well, who's your mother?'
"'My aunt, sir. She knows I'm out, sir.'
"There was not the least impudence in the child's tone or manner in
saying this. She looked up at him with her gipsy eye in the most
confident manner. She had not struck him in the least as beautiful;
but the longer he looked at her, the more he was pleased with her.
"'Is your aunt kind to you?'
"'She gives me my wittles.'
"'Suppose you did not get any money all day, what would she say to you?'
"'Oh, she won't give me a hidin' to-day, sir, supposin' I gets no more.
You've giv' me enough already, sir; thank you, sir. I'll change it into
ha'pence.'
"'She does beat you sometimes, then?'
"'Oh, my!'
"Here she rubbed her arms and elbows as if she ached all over at the
thought, and these were the only parts she could reach to rub for the
whole.
"'I _will_,' said Uncle Peter to himself.
"'Do you think you were born on Christmas-day, little one?'
"'I think I was once, sir.'
"'I shall teach the child to tell lies if I go on asking her questions
in this way,' thought my uncle. 'Will you go home with me?' he said
coaxingly.
"'Yes, sir, if you will tell me where to put my broom, for I must not
go home without it, else aunt would wollop me.'
"'I will buy you a new broom.'
"'But aunt would wollop me all the same if I did not bring home the old
one for our Christmas fire.
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