There was only three rooms upstairs, and Jim and me couldn’t make out how it was we had a bedroom apiece till we come across the lodger sleepin’ on the kitchen table, Dawkins on the mangle and Sammy in one of the dresser drawers.  Then we asked to be allowed to sleep together, with the lodger to one side; but Mrs. Dawkins said, “I thank the Lord we’re blessed with two good beds in our house, and as long as I have two defenders of the country in my care I should like to catch anyone belonging to me getting into either of their beds.  If we’re all getting wore out for want of sleep we can’t help ourselves, we’re doing our duty.”

Then she asked Jim if he was warm enough nights, and before he’d time to think he’d blurted out he wasn’t quite.  That evening she come down shiverin’ to supper in her petticut, and said what did it matter her catchin’ her death of cold if them she had in her care slept warm and comfortable under her meriner skirt.  We felt downright brutes.

But what hurt us most was the way them kids took against us.  Me and Jim is fond of kids, and we wanted to make friends and play with ’em, but it weren’t no good.  They was always puttin’ their tongues out at us when Mrs. Dawkins’ back was turned and talkin’ loud to one another:  “I say, Sammy, I ’ates soldiers, don’t you?  Soldiers is greedy; poor little children don’t have nothink where soldiers is.  Daddy ’ates soldiers too.  He says his ’ome is a ’ell since the soldiers come.  ‘Ere they are walkin’ down the street.  Quick, Billy!  Mother ain’t lookin’; turn yer nose up at ’em same as me.”

To make up for her kindness to us Jim and me tried to do little odd jobs about the house for Mrs. Dawkins, but somehow it all turned to wormwood.  We slipped out early one Sunday morning and begun siftin’ the cinders in the backyard, but she caught sight of us and ’ollered so at Dawkins she woke up all the neighbours:  “How can you lay there snorin’, you great lazy good-for-nothing, and look on while the defenders of your country is wearin’ themselves out ‘siftin’ your cinders?”

Dawkins tumbled off the mangle, thinkin’ it was a fire, and he swore terrible at me and Jim.

The young man lodger took against us too.  When his washin’ was on the line we couldn’t help noticin’ he was very bad off for underclothes, and Jim and me, havin’ more shirts and socks that kind ladies had give us than we knowed how’ to wear, we took the liberty of wrappin’ three of each in paper with a label, “Hopin’ no offence,” and puttin’ it in the chicken-’ouse where he was in the habit of doin’ his hair.  We was pleased to notice next day he had got one of the shirts on.  Of course we made no remark; no more did he.  But at supper-time Mrs. Dawkins caught sight of his cuffs.  She took the poor feller by the collar and we was afraid she would have shook the life out of him.

“You thievin’ rascal!” she said.  “To think I should ’arbour in my house a man as ain’t ashamed to rob the defenders of his country of the shirts off their backs!” Then she begun callin’ for the police.