"I can't paint or sing for nowt."  Joe said rising from his seat.  Not that he had ever really tried either one, but he just assumed he was bad. He started to gather up some of the remaining items.  In the Blacke household, only Mister Blacke the elder was excused from tidying away dinner.  Joe smirked at recalling his mother's regular admonishment: I'm your mother, not your slave....

"And me needlework's even worse.  Can I 'elp?"