Chapter 35
She Was Good for NothingTHE mayor stood at the open window. He looked smart, for
his shirt-frill, in which he had stuck a breast-pin, and his
ruffles, were very fine. He had shaved his chin uncommonly smooth,
although he had cut himself slightly, and had stuck a piece of
newspaper over the place. "Hark 'ee, youngster!" cried
he.
The boy to whom he spoke was no other than the son of a
poor washer-woman, who was just going past the house. He stopped,
and respectfully took off his cap. The peak of this cap was broken
in the middle, so that he could easily roll it up and put it in his
pocket. He stood before the mayor in his poor but clean and
well-mended clothes, with heavy wooden shoes on his feet, looking
as humble as if it had been the king himself.
"You are a good
