I don't do my work so well no more.

But your poor mother won't rest in her grave.

She was so proud of you, always dreamin'." The lamp Rose lighted showed comfortless rooms, with but few articles of furniture.

It was with the deft fingers of long practice that the girl spread the faded table-cloth, laid the dishes, ground the coffee, peeled the potatoes, and cut the bread.

Then presently she called her father to the meal.