Driven from Home.

As the big car passed through the village the visitor saw a man sitting on top of a pile of furniture, looking very disconsolate.

The visitor stopped his car and leaned out.

“I'm sorry for you, my poor man.” he said, “having no roof over your head; perhaps this will help you.” when he pressed a note into the man's hand.

“Thank 'ee,” said the man. “Very kind of you Oi'm sure.”

“I hope things will be better for you soon,” said the other.

“Oi'll be quite all right when she's finished,” replied the man, pointing his hand in the direction of a cottage door.

“Who's she?”

“Why, my wife; she be whitewashing the place.”