It was
customary for each 'party' to club together, emptying their several
contributions of tea out of little twists of newspaper into one
teapot. Wholesome bustle and confusion succeeded to the former
silence. One of the learners, whose turn it was to run on errands,
was overwhelmed with commissions to a chandler's shop close by; a
wry-faced, stupid little girl she was, and they called her, because
of her slowness, the 'funeral horse.' She had strange habits, which
made laughter for those who knew of them; for instance, it was her
custom in the dinner-hour to go apart and eat her poor scraps on a
doorstep close by a cook-shop; she confided to a companion that the
odour of baked joints seemed to give her food a relish. From her
present errand she returned with a strange variety of dainties--
for it was early in the week, and the girls still had. coppers in
their pockets; for two or three she had purchased a farthing's-worth
of jam, which she carried in paper. A bite of this and a taste of
that rewarded her for her trouble.
The quiet-mannered girl whom we were observing took her cup of tea
from the pot in which she had a share, and from her bag produced
some folded pieces of bread and butter.
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