She struggled indefatigably, grunting at each fresh effort, while through the flimsy partition the voice of the Caddles infant wailed.
"Bless 'is poor 'art," said Mrs.Skinner; and then, with her solitary tooth biting her lip in an ecstasy of determination, "Come _up_!" And presently, "_Jab_!" a fresh supply of the Food of the Gods was let loose to wreak its powers of giantry upon the world..