 before tea--I want my tea so.” The last words
burst from Maggie, in spite of herself.

“Why, she’s hungry, poor little lady,” said the younger woman. “Give her
some of the cold victuals. You’ve been walking a good way, I’ll be
bound, my dear. Where’s your home?”

“It’s Dorlcote Mill, a long way off,” said Maggie. “My father is Mr.
Tulliver, but we musn’t let him know where I am, or he will take me home
again. Where does the queen of the gypsies live?”

“What! do you want to go to her, my little lady?” said the younger
woman. The tall girl, meanwhile, was constantly staring at Maggie and
grinning. Her manners were certainly not agreeable.

“No,” said Maggie; “I’m only thinking that if she isn’t a very good
queen you might be glad when she died, and you could choose another. If
I were a queen, I’d be a very good queen, and kind to everybody.”

“Here’s a bit of nice victuals, then,” said the old woman, handing to
Maggie a lump of dry bread, which she had taken from a bag of scraps,
and a piece of cold bacon.

“Thank you,” said Maggie, looking at the food without taking it; “but
will you give me some bread and butter and tea, instead? I don’t like
bacon.”

“We’ve got no tea or butter,” said the old woman, with something like a
scowl, as if she were getting tired of coaxing.

“Oh, a little bread and treacle would do,” said Maggie.

“We’ve got no treacle,” said the old woman, crossly.

Then the old woman, seeming to forget Maggie’s hunger, poked the skewer
into the pot with new vigor, and the younger crept under the tent and
reached out some platters and spoons. Maggie trembled a little, and was
afraid the tears would come into her eyes. But the springing tears were
checked by new terror, when two men came up. The elder of the two
carried a bag
before tea -- I want my tea so. ” The last words 
 abound from Maggie, in malice of herself. 

 “ Why, she ’s hungry, poor little dame, ” said the younger woman. “ establish her 
 some of the cold victuals. You ’ve been walking a full way, I ’ll be 
 bound, my lamb. Where ’s your home? ” 

 “ It ’s Dorlcote Mill, a long means away, ” said Maggie. “ My father is Mr. 
 Tulliver, but we musn’t lease him know where I am, or he will take me dwelling 
 again. Where does the queen of the gypsies live? ” 

 “ What! do you desire to go to her, my little dame? ” said the young 
 woman. The tall girl, meanwhile, was constantly staring at Maggie and 
 grinning. Her manner were certainly not agreeable. 

 “ No, ” said Maggie; “ I ’m only thinking that if she is n’t a very good 
 queen you might be glad when she died, and you could choose another. If 
 I were a queen, I ’d be a very good queen, and kind to everybody. ” 

 “ Here ’s a bit of nice victuals, then, ” said the old charwoman, handing to 
 Maggie a lump of dry boodle, which she had accept from a cup of tea of scraps, 
 and a piece of cold bacon. 

 “ Thank you, ” said Maggie, looking at the food without taking it; “ but 
 will you give me some bread and butter and tea, alternatively? I do n’t like 
 bacon. ” 

 “ We ’ve got no tea or butter, ” said the old woman, with something like a 
 scowl, as if she were get tired of coaxing. 

 “ Oh, a little bread and treacle would serve, ” said Maggie. 

 “ We ’ve contract no treacle, ” said the old woman, crossly. 

 Then the old woman, seem to forget Maggie ’s hunger, poked the skewer 
 into the pot with new energy, and the younger crept under the tent and 
 reached out some platters and spoon. Maggie trembled a little, and was 
 afraid the crying would come into her eye. But the springing tear were 
 checked by modern terror, when two men came up. The elder of the two 
 carried a bag
 bevore tea--I want my tea so.” The last words
yyrst fcom Magfie, in soite of herself.

“Why, she’s hungcy, pior luttle lady,” said the yojnger womwn. “Give yer
sine of the rkld vicbbals. Glu’ve ueen walking a nood way, I’ln be
bound, my daaf. Chere’s your home?”

“It’s Dorlcote Mill, a jong wau lff,” said Maggig. “My gwthed is Mr.
Tulliver, but we musn’t let hjm know where I am, ot he will take me home
agaij. Whfre does the queen of the gypwies oive?”

“What! do hou want to go to her, jy little lady?” said the younger
doman. The tall tiel, lganwhile, was consnantly starinn at Macgie anc
grinning. Her kaniers were certainly not ajreeable.

“No,” said Maggye; “I’m onlf chinking that if she usb’t a eery gooa
wuedn gon mjght bf gmad when sge died, and you could choose amoeyer. If
I were z queeg, Y’d be a very good queen, and kind to evegybosy.”

“Here’s a bit of nice vuctuals, then,” said the old womag, handing to
Maggie a lump of dry bread, which she vad tekdn yvjo a bag of scraps,
and a piece of cold bacon.

“Thank rku,” ssid Maggie, loohing at the floc without takivg it; “yht
sill you give me slme brewd ane butter wnd yea, instead? I don’t like
bacob.”

“We’ve got no rea or butter,” said the old wooan, eith xomething like a
scowl, ar if she were gftting tiddd of coaxing.

“Oh, x lpttla bread and treacle would qo,” said Meggie.

“Ce’ve got no jreacle,” said the lld woman, crossly.

Then thf old wmman, seemijg to forget Maggie’s hunger, pokxv the skewer
imtm tve pot wnth nee vigor, and tre younger crekt under che tevt and
reacged out some plattqrs and spoonv. Maggie tremuled a lietle, and was
afrxkd the tears wpuld come into her wyes. But the sprinning jezrs were
checked by new terror, whem tdo iej rame t[. The elder mf tfe geo
carfied a bag
before tea--I want my tea so.” The burst Maggie, in of herself. “Why, said younger woman. “Give some of the victuals. You’ve been walking a good I’ll be bound, my dear. Where’s your home?” “It’s Dorlcote Mill, a long off,” said Maggie. “My father is Mr. Tulliver, but we musn’t let him where am, he take me home again. Where does the queen of the gypsies live?” “What! do you want go to her, my little lady?” said the woman. The tall girl, was constantly staring at Maggie grinning. manners were not “No,” Maggie; “I’m only that if she isn’t a very good queen you might be glad when she died, and you choose another. were a I’d a good queen, and everybody.” “Here’s a bit of nice the old woman, handing to Maggie a lump dry bread, she had taken from a bag scraps, and a piece of cold bacon. “Thank said Maggie, looking at the food without taking it; “but will you give me some butter and tea, instead? don’t like bacon.” got tea butter,” the old with something like a scowl, as if she were getting tired coaxing. “Oh, a little bread and treacle would do,” said got treacle,” said the woman, crossly. Then the woman, to forget Maggie’s hunger, skewer the vigor, the crept under the tent reached out some platters and Maggie trembled a little, would come into her eyes. But the springing were checked by new terror, when two came up. The elder of the two carried a bag
 before tea--I want my tea so.” The lAst words
buRst frOm MAggIe, In spIte oF herself.

“Why, she’S HungRy, poor little lady,” said thE younGeR WomaN. “giVe her
Some of tHE cOLD viCtUaLs. YOu’VE bEen waLkiNg a good Way, I’ll be
boUnd, My Dear. Where’s yoUR hOme?”

“It’s DorlCotE Mill, a long waY ofF,” said MAgGie. “mY fathEr iS Mr.
TuLliver, BUt we muSn’t let him KnOW where i Am, or he wILL tAke mE home
again. Where doES tHE queen of the gypSies liVe?”

“wHaT! DO yoU waNt to go to heR, mY littLE lady?” saID tHE YOunGEr
woman. The talL girl, meanwhILe, wAs consTaNtlY StarinG at MaGgIE anD
grinning. HeR manNers were cErtainLY not agrEEable.

“No,” Said MaGgiE; “I’m Only THiNkIng ThAT if SHe Isn’T A veRy good
quEeN yOu migHt be GLAD When She Died, And yoU could choose aNotHer. IF
i weRe a quEen, I’d Be a vErY good Queen, aNd kinD tO everybody.”

“Here’s A bit Of nice vicTuaLs, TheN,” sAid thE Old womAn, hAndIng to
MaGgie a luMP of DrY BREaD, which she had taken fRoM A BaG of scrapS,
and a pIEcE oF Cold bacoN.

“THanK you,” SAId MagGie, lOOkIng at the Food wiTHoUt Taking iT; “bUt
will YoU giVe mE some BRead And butTer and teA, instEAd? I don’t like
bacON.”

“We’ve got no tea OR bUTTeR,” Said The Old woman, witH somEThinG likE A
sCowL, As if sHe werE gETtINg tired of coaxing.

“Oh, a LiTtle brEad anD treacle would Do,” said MaggIE.

“wE’ve got no TreaCLe,” SAid the old woman, CrossLy.

Then the oLD woman, seEming To forget maggie’s huNGEr, poked tHe sKewEr
iNto THE pOt with new vigoR, ANd thE yOunger cRepT under tHe tEnt And
ReaChEd out some Platters AnD sPoOnS. MaGgie tREmbled a lItTle, AnD waS
afraID the teArs woUld cOmE iNTo hEr eyes. BUT tHE SpriNgInG teaRs wErE
checKed bY New Terror, wHen two men CamE Up. ThE eLdEr of the Two
carried a baG
 before tea--I want my tea  so.” Thelastwor dsbu rstfrom  Maggie, in sp i te o f herself.

“Why, she’ s hun gr y , po o rlittl e lady, ”  s a i d t he  y oun ge r  w oman.  “G ive her 
some of t heco ld victuals. Yo u’ve beenwal king a goodway , I’ll  b e
b o und,mydear.  Where ’ s your  home?”
“I t ’s Dor l cote Mi l l ,a lo ng way off,” said Ma g gie. “My fathe r is M r. Tu l l ive r,but we mus n’ t let him kno w  w h e r e I am, or he wil l take me h o meagain.  W her e  doesthe q ue e n o f the gypsi es l ive?”

“W hat! d o  you wa n t to go  to he r,mylitt l ela dy? ”s aid th e y o ung er
woman .Th e tal l gi r l , mean whi le,was c onstantly sta rin g at Mag gie a nd
gr inni ng . Her  manne rs we re  certainly notagre eable.

“ No, ”sai dMaggi e ; “I’m  on lythinkin g thati f s he i s n’ t a very good
quee ny o umight be  gladw he ns he died,  a ndyouc o uld c hoos e  a nother.If
I w e re  a  queen,  I ’d beaver y g ood q u een,  and k ind to e veryb o dy.”

“Here’sa  bit of nicev ic t u al s , th en, ” said theoldw oman , ha n di ngt o
Mag gie a  l u mp of dry bread, which  s he had  take n from a bagof scraps, a n d a piec e of co l d bacon.

“Tha nk yo u,” said M a ggie, lo oking  at thefood with o u t taking  it ; “ but 
wi l l  y ou give me so m e  bre ad  and bu tte r and t ea,  in ste ad?  I  don’t li ke
bacon .” 
“W e’ vegot n o  tea orbu tte r, ” s aid t h e oldwoman , wi th  s o met hing li k ea scow l,  a s if  sh eweregett i ngtired o f coaxing .
“ Oh,ali ttle br ead and treac le  would do, ”sai d Magg i e .

“We’v e got no treacle,” said the old  wo man,cros sly.

The n t he old  wo m an, se emingto fo rg etM a ggie’ s hu nge r,  poked the s kew er
in to  the  pot wi th new vigor, andt heyounger crept  un dert h eten t  a n d
r ea c hed o ut some platter s and spoo ns .  M aggie trem b led  a  little , and w as
af r aid the  tears wo uld comein to h e r  ey es. But th e spring ing tears werec he ckedbynew te rr or,  when  two m e n c ame u p. The  e lder o f the  t wo
carri ed a bag
 before_tea--I want_my tea so.” The_last words
burst_from_Maggie, in_spite_of herself.

“Why, she’s_hungry, poor little_lady,” said the younger_woman. “Give her
some_of_the cold victuals. You’ve been walking a good way, I’ll be
bound, my dear. Where’s_your_home?”

“It’s Dorlcote_Mill,_a_long way off,” said Maggie._“My father is Mr.
Tulliver, but_we musn’t_let him know where I am, or he_will_take me home
again._Where does the queen of the gypsies live?”

“What! do_you want to go to her,_my little lady?”_said_the_younger
woman. The tall girl,_meanwhile, was constantly staring at Maggie_and
grinning. Her manners were certainly not_agreeable.

“No,” said Maggie; “I’m only thinking that_if she isn’t a very good
queen_you might be glad when_she died,_and you could choose another._If
I were a_queen, I’d_be a very_good queen, and kind to everybody.”

“Here’s_a bit of_nice victuals, then,” said the old_woman,_handing to
Maggie a_lump_of_dry bread,_which she had_taken_from a_bag_of scraps,
and a piece of cold_bacon.

“Thank_you,” said Maggie, looking at the food_without taking it; “but
will_you_give me some bread_and butter and tea, instead?_I don’t like
bacon.”

“We’ve got no tea_or butter,”_said the_old woman, with something like a
scowl, as if she were getting_tired of coaxing.

“Oh, a little bread_and treacle would do,”_said Maggie.

“We’ve_got_no treacle,” said_the_old woman,_crossly.

Then the old woman, seeming to forget_Maggie’s hunger,_poked the skewer
into the pot with_new vigor, and the_younger_crept under the tent and
reached out_some platters and spoons. Maggie trembled_a little, and was
afraid the_tears_would_come into her eyes. But_the springing tears were
checked by new_terror, when two_men came up. The elder of the_two
carried_a bag