In the midst of the great wilderness—we might almost say the wilds—of that comparatively unknown region which lies on the Surrey side of the Thames, just above London Bridge, there sauntered one fine day a big bronzed seaman of middle age. He turned into an alley, down which, nautically speaking, he rolled into a shabby little court. There he stood still for a few seconds and looked around him as if in quest of something. It was a miserable poverty-stricken court, with nothing to commend it to t

Evil spirits indeed formed the dread foundation of the old woman’s abode; for, although her own court was to some extent free from the curse, this particular pile of building, of which the garden formed the apex, had a grog-shop, opening on another court, for its foundation-stone. From that sink of iniquity, literal and unmitigated—though not unadulterated—spirits of evil rose like horrid fumes from the pit, and maddened the human spirits overhead. These, descending to the foundation-den, soaked

“Ye speak o’ gaun to see the warld, laddie, as if ’ee was a gentleman.” “Div ’ee think, mother, that the warld was made only for gentlemen to travel in?” demanded the youth, with the gentlest touch of scorn in his tone. To this question the good woman made no reply; indeed her stalwart son evidently expected none, for he rose a few minutes later and proceeded to pack up his slender wardrobe in a shoulder-bag of huge size, which, however, was well suited to his own proportions. Next day David Lai

The strong hand relaxed, another moment and the man, slipping round the corner like an unwholesome spirit, was gone. “Can ye direck me, polisman,” said the Scot to the constable, as he was about to pass, “t’ Toor Street?” “Never heard of it,” said the constable brusquely, but civilly enough. “That’s queer noo. I was telt it was hereaboots—Toor Street.” “Oh, perhaps you mean Tower Street” said the constable, with a patronising smile. “Perhaps I div,” returned the Scot, with that touch of cynicism

“Surely he was not beggin’?” exclaimed Mr Spivin in tones of virtuous reproof, “for a noo convert to go a-beggin’, you know, would be houtrageous!” “Na, na,” answered David, with a quiet and somewhat cynical smile, “he wasna beggin’, puir lad, but I took peety on ’im, an’ gee’d ’im some bawbees. So this is yer new convert, is he? an’ he’s to be my guide? He’ll do. He’ll do. Sae I’ll bid ye guid-nicht, Mr Speevin.” As the Scot held out his hand in a very decided manner the landlord was obliged to

Advancing quickly to this man, the missionary said, in a quiet gentle tone— “You supply coffee, I see. May I have a cup?” “No you mayn’t, you spy! I know you, you canting wretch!” He locked the door as he spoke, and then, striding forward in a towering rage, threatened vengeance on the intruder. The company, expecting a scene, rose en masse to their feet, while those in the inner room crowded to the front. Laidlaw, who was for the moment forgotten in this new excitement, followed them. He was we

Gravely pondering these contradictory opinions, our hero walked along until he found himself close to the alley which led into Cherub Court. A female yell issued from the alley as he came up, and Mrs Rampy suddenly appeared in a state of violent self-assertion. She was a strong, red-faced woman, who might have been born a man, perhaps, with advantage. She carried a broken-lipped jug, and was on her way to the shop which was at least the second cause of all her woes. Standing aside to let the vir

“Have the shares been lang at this high figure?” asked Laidlaw. “Yes; they have improved steadily for several years back.” “What say ye to that freend?” demanded David, turning to Sam with a triumphant look. Sam turned on his friend a look as expressionless as that of a Dutch clock, and said sententiously, “ I says, go in an’ win.” “ I says ditto!” thought Tommy Splint, but he meekly and wisely held his tongue. Meanwhile the lawyer went into another room, from which, returning after a short abse

“Hallo, Thunderbolt!” exclaimed the boy sternly, as he started back and doubled his fists, “who let you out o’ Noogate?” The thief was about to pass without deigning a reply, when, glancing at the small questioner, he suddenly stopped and held out his hand. “I say, Splint, is it you I’ve run into?” “Well, it’s uncommon like me. Any’ow, not a twin brother, I s’pose it must be myself. But I hain’t got the pleasure o’ your acquaintance as I knows on.” “What! Don’t you remember Trumps?” “No, I don’t

“But surely you don’t b’lieve ’e’s guilty?” said the boy, forgetting even his humorous tendencies in his anxiety about his friend. “No, I don’t” said the girl, becoming suddenly earnest, “for Mary an’ me saw—” “Martha-a-a!” shouted a female voice from the interior of the house at that moment. The girl ran in. At the same time the suspicious policeman came up with, “Now then, youngster, move on.” “Move off you mean, bobby. Hain’t you been to school yet, stoopid?” cried the boy, applying his thumb

“Yes, quite sure, for we both felt the pocket all round as well as looked into it.” “Well, go on.” “Then we shut the bag, and after we had finished the room, we was just goin’ out, when master he ran up-stairs as if he was in a hurry. He came into the room with a bit of paper in ’is ’and, somethink like a bank note, but he started on seein’ us, an’ crumpled up the paper an’ stuffed it in ’is pocket. At the same time ’e got very angry, scolded us for being so slow, and ordered us off to the other

At this critical moment feet were heard clattering and stumbling up the stair as if in tremendous haste. Next moment Tommy burst upon their vision in a full suit of superfine blue with brass buttons! “Tommy!” exclaimed Susy in amazement. “No, madam—no. Tummas, if you please,” said the boy with dignity, though almost bursting with suppressed excitement. “I’m man-servant to Colonel John Brentwood, Esquire, M.P., F.R.Z.Q.T., Feller of the Royal Society—an’ good society, an’ every other society. Sal

“Lord, bless us—an’ our wittles,” said Mrs Rampy, suddenly shutting her eyes as she opened her mouth, to the intense surprise of her guests. “Now then,” she added, in a tone of great relief, “go a-’ead w’en you’ve got the chance. There’s more w’ere that come from. ’And about the cake, Mrs Blathers, like a good creetur. An’ it ain’t much o’ this blow-hout you owes to me. I on’y supplied the sugar, ’cause that was in the ’ouse anyways.” “It is a good deed, Mrs Rampy,” said old Liz, with a smile, “