Well，lastnightthecountergotasorethroatandcouldn’tmakeanote。Sotheysentforme。JacobButterworthhadsaidagoodwordforme，andtheyaskedmewouldIsing？YoumaythinkIwasfrightened，butIthoughtnowornever，andsaidI’ddomybest。SoItriedo’erthesongswi’th’lecturer，andthenth’managerstoldmeIweretomakemyselfdecentandbetherebyseven。““Andwhatdidyouputon？“askedMary。“Oh，whydidn’tyoucomeinformyprettypinkgingham？““Ididthinkon’t；butyouhadnacomehomethen。No!Iputonmymerino，aswasturnedlastwinter，andmywhiteshawl，anddidmyhairprettytidy；
　　itdidwellenough。Well，butasIwassaying，Iwentatseven。Icouldn’tseetoreadmymusic，butItookth’paperinwi’me，toha’somethingtodowi’myfingers。Th’folks’headsdanced，asIstoodasrightafore’emallasifI’dbeengoingtoplayatballwi’’em。YoumayguessIfeltsqueamish，butmineweren’tthefirstsong，andth’musicsoundedlikeafriend’svoicetellingmetotakecourage。So，tomakealongstoryshort，whenitwereallo’erth’lecturerthankedme，andth’managerssaidashowthereneverwasanewsingersoapplaudedforthey’dclappedandstampedafterI’ddone，tillIbegantowonderhowmanypairo’shoesthey’dgetthroughaweekatthatrate，letalonetheirhands。SoI’mtosingagaino’Thursday；andIgotasovereignlastnight，andamtohavehalf-a-sovereigneverynightth’lecturerisatth’Mechanics’。““Well，Margaret，I’mrightgladtohearit。““AndIdon’tthinkyou’veheardthebestbityet。Nowthatawayseemedopentome，ofnotbeingaburdentoanyone，thoughitdidpleaseGodtomakemeblind，IthoughtI’dtellgrandfather。Ionlytell’dhimaboutthesingingandthesovereignlastnight，forIthoughtI’dnotsendhimtobedwi’aheavyheart；butthismorningItelledhimall。““Andhowdidhetakeit？““He’snotamanofmanywords；andittookhimbysurpriselike。““Iwonderatthat；I’venoticeditinyourwayseversinceyoutelledme。“Aye，that’sitIIfI’dnottelledyou，andyou’dseenmeeveryday，you’dnotha’noticedthelittlemiteo’differencefra’daytoday。““Well，butwhatdidyourgrandfathersay？““Why，Mary，“saidMargaret，halfsmiling，“I’mabitloathtotellyo，forunlessyoknewgrandfather’swayslikeme，yo’dthinkitstrange。Hewastakenbysurprise，andhesaid：’Damnyo!’Thenhebeganlookingathisbookasitwere，andwereveryquiet，whileItelledhimallaboutit；howI’dfeared，andhowdowncastI’dbeen；andhowIwerenowreconciledtoit，ifitwereth’Lord’swill；andhowIhopedtoearnmoneybysinging；
　　andwhileIweretalking，Isawgreatbigtearscomedroppingonth’book；
　　butincourseIneverletonthatIsaw’em。DeargrandfatherIandalldaylonghe’sbeenquietlymovingthingsouto’myway，ashethoughtmighttripmeup，andputtingthingsinmywayashethoughtImightwant；neverknowingIsawandfeltwhatheweredoing；for，yoseehethinksI’moutandoutblind，Iguess——asIshallbesoon。“Margaretsighedinspiteofhercheerfulandrelievedtone。ThoughMarycaughtthesigh，shefeltitwasbettertoletitpasswithoutnotice，andbegan，withthetactwhichtruesympathyrarelyfailstosupply，toaskavarietyofquestionsrespectingherfriend’smusicaldebut，whichtendedtobringoutmoredistinctlyhowsuccessfulithadbeen。“Why，Margaret，“atlengthsheexclaimed，“thou’ltbecomeasfamous，maybe，asthatgrandladyfra’London，aswesee’donenightdrivinguptoth’concertroomdoorinhercarriage。““Itlooksverylikeit，“saidMargaret，withasmile。“Andbesure，Mary，I’llnotforgettogivetheealiftnowan’thenwhenthatcomesabout。
　　Nay，whoknows，ifthou’rtagoodgirl，butmayhappenImaymaketheemylady’smaidIWouldn’tthatbenice？SoIe’ensingtomysel’th’beginningo’oneo’mysongs，’An’yeshallwalkinsilkattire，An’sillerhaetospare。’“Nay，don’tstop；orelsegivemesomethingrathermorenew，forsomehowIneverquitelikedthatpartaboutthinkingo’Donaldmair。““Well，thoughI’mabittir’d，Idon’tcareifIdo。BeforeIcome，IwerepractisingwellnighupontwohoursthisonewhichI’mtosingo’Thursday。
　　Th’lecturersaidheweresureitwouldjustsuitme，andIshoulddojusticetoit；andIshouldberightsorrytodisappointhim，heweresoniceandencouraging1iketome。Eh!Mary，whatapitythereisn’tmoreo’thatway，andlessscoldingandratingi’th’world!Itwouldgoavastdealfurther。Beside，someo’th’singerssaid，theywerea’mostcertainthatitwereasongo’hisown，becauseheweresofidgetyandparticularaboutit，andsoanxiousIshouldgiveitth’properexpression。Andthatmakesmecarestillmore。Th’firstverse，hesaid，weretobesung’tenderly，butjoyously!’I’mafraidIdon’tquitehitthat，butI’lltry。Whatasinglewordcando!Thrillingalltheheart-stringsthrough，Callingforthfondmemories，Rainingroundhope’smelodies，Steepingallinonebrighthue——Whatasinglewordcando!Nowitfallsintoth’minorkey，andmustbeverysadlike。IfeelasifIcoulddothatbetterthant’other。Whatasinglewordcando!Makinglifeseemalluntrue，Drivingjoyandhopeaway，Leavingnotonecheeringray，Blightingeveryflowerthatgrew——Whatasinglewordcando!Margaretcertainlymadethemostofthislittlesong。Asafactoryworker，listeningoutside，observed，“Shespunitreetfine!“AndifsheonlysangitattheMechanics’withhalfthefeelingsheputintoitthatnight，thelecturermusthavebeenhardtoplease，ifhedidnotadmitthathisexpectationsweremorethanfulfilled。Whenitwasended，Mary’slookstoldmorethanwordscouldhavedonewhatshethoughtofit；andpartlytokeepinatearwhichwouldfainhaverolledout，shebrightenedintoalaugh，andsaid，“Forcertain，th’carriageiscoming。Soletusgoanddreamonit。“
　　Alifeofself-indulgenceisforus，Alifeofself-denialisforthem；Forusthestreets，broad-builtandpopulous，Forthemunhealthycorners，garretsdim，Andcellarswherethewater-ratmayswim!Forusgreenpathsrefreshedbyfrequentrain，Forthemdarkalleyswherethedustliesgrim!Notdoomedbyustothisappointedpain——Godmadeusrichandpoor——ofwhatdothesecomplain？MRSNORTON，ChildoftheIslands。Thenexteveningitwasawarm，pattering，incessantrain——justtheraintowakenuptheflowers。ButinManchester，where，alas!therearenoflowers，therainhadonlyadishearteningandgloomyeffect；thestreetswerewetanddirty，thedrippingsfromthehouseswerewetanddirty，andthepeoplewerewetanddirty。Indeed，mostkeptwithindoors；andtherewasanunusualsilenceoffootstepsinthelittlepavedcourts。Maryhadtochangeherclothesafterherwalkhome；andhadhardlysettledherselfbeforesheheardsomeonefumblingatthedoor。Thenoisecontinuedlongenoughtoallowhertogetup，andgoandopenit。Therestood——coulditbe？yesitwas，herfather!Drenchedandwayworn，therehestood!HecameinwithnowordtoMaryinreturnforhercheeryandastonishedgreeting。Hesatdownbythefireinhiswetthings，unheeding。ButMarywouldnotlethimsorest。Sheranupandbroughtdownhisworkingdayclothes，andwentintothepantrytorummageuptheirlittlebitofprovisionwhilehechangedbythefire，talkingallthewhileasgailyasshecould，thoughherfather’sdepressionhunglikeleadonherheart。ForMary，inherseclusionatMissSimmonds’，——wherethechieftalkwasoffashions，anddress，andpartiestobegiven，forwhichsuchandsuchgownswouldbewanted，variedwithaslight-whisperedinterludeoccasionallyaboutloveandlovers，——hadnotheardthepoliticalnewsoftheday：thatParliamenthadrefusedtolistentotheworkingmen，whentheypetitioned，withalltheforceoftheirrough，untutoredwords，tobeheardconcerningthedistresswhichwasriding，liketheConqueroronhisPaleHorse，amongthepeople；whichwascrushingtheirlivesoutofthem，andstampingwoe-marksovertheland。Whenhehadeatenandwasrefreshed，theysatforsometimeinsilence；
　　forMarywishedhimtotellherwhatoppressedhimso，yetdurstnotask。
　　Inthisshewaswise；forwhenweareheavy-ladeninourheartsitfallsinbetterwithourhumourtorevealourcaseinourownway，andourowntime。Marysatonastoolatherfather’sfeetinoldchildishguise，andstoleherhandintohis，whilehissadnessinfectedher，andshe“caughtthetrickofgrief，andsighed，“sheknewnotwhy。“Mary，we’nunspeaktoourGodtohearus，formanwillnothearken；no，notnow，whenweweeptearso’blood。“InaninstantMaryunderstoodthefact，ifnotthedetails，thatsoweigheddownherfather’sheart。Shepressedhishandwithsilentsympathy。Shedidnotknowwhattosay，andwassoafraidofspeakingwrongly，thatshewassilent。Butwhenhisattitudehadremainedunchangedformorethanhalf-an-hour，hiseyesgazingvacantlyandfixedlyatthefire，nosoundbutnowandthenadeep-drawnsightobreakthewearytickingoftheclock，andthedrip-dropfromtheroofwithout，Marycouldbearitnolonger。
　　Anythingtorouseherfather。Evenbadnews。“Father，doyouknowGeorgeWilson’sdead？“Herhandwassuddenlyandalmostviolentlycompressed。“HedroppeddowndeadinOxfordRoadyestermorning。It’sverysad，isn’tit，father？“Hertearswerereadytoflowasshelookedupinherfather’sfaceforsympathy。Stillthesamefixedlookofdespair，notvariedbygriefforthedead。“Bestforhimtodie，“hesaid，inalowvoice。Thiswasunbearable。MarygotupunderpretenceofgoingtotellMargaretthatsheneednotcometosleepwithherto-night，butreallytoaskJobLeghtocomeandcheerherfather。Shestoppedoutsidethedoor。Margaretwaspractisinghersinging，andthroughthestillnightairhervoicerangout，likethatofanangel：“Comfortye，comfortye，mypeople，saithyourGod。“TheoldHebrewpropheticwordsfelllikedewonMary’sheart。Shecouldnotinterrupt。Shestoodlisteningand“comforted，“tillthelittlebuzzofconversationagainbegan，andthenenteredandtoldhererrand。Bothgrandfatherandgranddaughterroseinstantlytofulfilherrequest。“He’sjusttiredout，Mary，“saidoldJob。“He’llbeadifferentmanto-morrow。“Thereisnodescribingthelooksandtonesthathavepoweroveranaching，heavy-ladenheart；butinanhourorsoJohnBartonwastalkingawayasfreelyasever，thoughallhistalkran，aswasnatural，onthedisappointmentofhisfondhope，oftheforlornhopeofmany。“Ay，London’safineplace，“saidhe，“andfinerfolkliveinitthanI
　　everthoughton，oreverheerdtellonexceptinth’story-books。Theyarehavingtheirgoodthingsnow，thatafterwardstheymaybetormented。“StillattheoldparableofDivesandLazarus!Doesithauntthemindsoftherichasitdoesthoseofthepoor？“DotellusallaboutLondon，dearfather，“askedMary，whowassittingatheroldpostbyherfather’sknee。“HowcanItellyoa’aboutit，whenIneverseedone-tenthofit。It’sasbigassixManchesters，theytelledme。One-sixthmaybemadeupo’
　　grandpalaces，andthree-sixth’so’middlingkind，andth’resto’holeso’iniquityandfilth，suchasManchesterknowsnoughton，I’mgladtosay。“Well，father，butdidyouseetheQueen？““IbelieveIdidn’t，thoughonedayIthoughtI’dseenhermanyatime。
　　Yousee，saidhe，turningtoJobLegh，“therewereadayappointedforustogotoParliamentHouse。Weweremostonusbidingatapublic-houseinHolborn，wheretheydidverywellforus。Th’morningoftakingourpetitionwehadsuchaspreadforbreakfastasth’Queenherselmightha’
　　sittendownto。Isupposetheythoughtwewantedputtinginheart。Thereweremuttonkidneys，andsausages，andbroiledham，andfriedbeefandonions；morelikeadinnernorabreakfast。Manyonourchapsthough，I
　　couldsee，couldeatbutlittle。Th’foodstuckintheirthroatswhentheythoughto’themathome，wivesandlittleones，ashad，maybeatthatverytime，noughttoeat，Well，afterbreakfast，wewereallsettowalkinprocession，andatimeittooktoputusinorder，twoandtwo，andthepetition，aswasyardslong，carriedbyth’foremostpairs。Themenlookedgraveenough，yomaybesure；andsuchasetofthin，wan，wretched-lookingchapsastheywere!““Yourselfisnonetoboaston。““Aye，butIwerefatandrosytomanyaone。Well，wewalkedonandonthroughmanyastreet，muchthesameasDeansgate。Wehadtowalkslowly，slowly，forth’carriagesan’cabsasthrongedth’streets。Ithoughtbyandbyweshouldmaybegetclearon’em，butasthestreetsgrewwidertheygrewworse，andatlastwewerefairlyblockedupatOxfordStreet。