"Got 'er in to help," he
replied, uneasily.
"Do you hear that?" demanded his wife, turning to her friend, Mrs.
Gorman. "Oh, these masters!"
"Ah!" said her friend, vaguely.
"A strike-breaker!" said Mrs. Porter, rolling her eyes.
"Shame!" said Mrs. Gorman, beginning to understand.
"Coming after my job, and taking the bread out of my mouth," continued
Mrs. Porter, fluently. "Underselling me too, I'll be bound. That's what
comes of not having pickets."
"Unskilled labour," said Mrs. Gorman, tightening her lips and shaking her
head.
"A scab!" cried Mrs. Porter, wildly. "A scab!"
"Put her out," counselled her friend.
"Put her out!" repeated Mrs. Porter, in a terrible voice. "Put her out!
I'll tear her limb from limb! I'll put her in the copper and boil her!"
Her voice was so loud and her appearance so alarming that the unfortunate
Maudie, emitting three piercing shrieks, rose hastily from the table and
looked around for a way of escape. The road to the front-door was
barred, and with a final yelp that set her employer's teeth on edge she
dashed into the yard and went home via the back-fences.
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