the work went gayly on. It is just possible that there may have been more noise and clatter when the Tower of Babel was run up. But then that was a more imposing structure, there were more people engaged in it, and it was in the Old World; but this was pretty well for a new country—three women, an old man, and a hen-coop—and made some noise in the world.
When the work was about half finished, Alice, who, owning not a penny of her own in the wide world, was, of course, of a very liberal and generous disposition—as penniless people usually are—proposed that old Drosky should stop and rest, and have something to eat, observing to Winny that she was sure he must be tired, and hungry too.
"No, he aint—not a bit ob it," said Winny, with a reproving and admonitory wink of her eye, and a shake of her sagacious old head at Alice. "He aint a mite hungry yet, yer know," and as she spoke she looked full in old Drosky's face, whose hungry eyes spoke a very different language. "You aint not a mite hungry now, nigger; but I 'spects
