"The one with the curls?"
"What, Bessie, sir?" said the old lady. "Oh, she's out at service,
sir; John don't think it good for young folks to be idle."
"Your son seems to have changed a good deal, Mrs. Burridge," I
remarked.
"Ay, sir," she assented, "you may well say that. It nearly broke
my 'art at fust; everythin' so different to what it 'ad been. Not
as I'd stand in the boy's light. If our being a bit uncomfortable
like in this world is a-going to do 'im any good in the next me and
father ain't the ones to begrudge it, are we, old man?"
The "old man" concurred grumpily.
"Was it a sudden conversion?" I asked. "How did it come about?"
"It was a young woman as started 'im off," explained the old lady.
"She come round to our place one day a-collectin' for somethin' or
other, and Jack, in 'is free-'anded way, 'e give 'er a five-pun'
note. Next week she come agen for somethin' else, and stopped and
talked to 'im about 'is soul in the passage. She told 'im as 'e
was a-goin' straight to 'ell, and that 'e oughter give up the
bookmakin' and settle down to a respec'ble, God-fearin' business.
At fust 'e only laughed, but she lammed in tracts at 'im full of
the most awful language; and one day she fetched 'im round to one
of them revivalist chaps, as fair settled 'im.
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