"No, Jimmy. It would never do for the brother of a great artist
to be selling candy round the streets. I hope I shall have
something better to do than that."
"Sit down to dinner, Paul," said his mother. "It's all ready."
The dinner was not a luxurious one. There was a small plate of
cold meat, some potatoes, and bread and butter; but Mrs. Hoffman
felt glad to be able to provide even that, and Paul, who had the
hearty appetite of a growing boy, did full justice to the fare.
They had scarcely finished, when a knock was heard at the door.
Paul, answering the summons, admitted a stout, pleasant-looking
Irishwoman.
"The top of the mornin' to ye, Mrs. Donovan," said Paul, bowing
ceremoniously.
"Ah, ye'll be afther havin' your joke, Paul," said Mrs. Donovan,
good-naturedly. "And how is your health, mum, the day?"
"I am well, thank you, Mrs. Donovan," said Mrs. Hoffman. "Sit
down to the table, won't you? We're just through dinner, but
there's something left."
"Thank you, mum, I've jist taken dinner. I was goin' to wash
this afternoon, and I thought maybe you'd have some little pieces
I could wash jist as well as not."
"Thank you, Mrs. Donovan, you are very kind; but you must have
enough work of your own to do.
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