210 ERNIE 



notions about the relation of the big parent 

 to the tiny child. 



Every day it is the same. Ernie in the 

 water, Ernie covered with mud and jam. 

 Ernie holding out pails, bottles, cans, 

 kettles, and food for me to see. 



" You ain't got this one, 'ave ee ? I got 

 this one. Ah'll tell plicemun of ee, Mis'r 

 Wisson, swearin'! I got my wills. You 

 ain't got no wills. I got the wills." 



" Go away, boy! " I shout, as once a 

 schoolmaster used to bellow at me. 



He departs, but returns with a cup of 

 muddy water. 



" I got a glass o* beer. 'Tis mine, it is. 

 Yaas." 



Dirty face, wet boots, disturbing voice, 

 everlasting questions, and possessive boast- 

 ings how can I complete the various 

 volumes of The Flax of Dream, with Ernie 

 always pestering. I have told him again 

 and again that I wish he would go away to 

 another cottage. But if he were to, I should 



