in the condition of Nelly's poor baby, which rapidly sinking made little gasps for breath, most painful to hear as well as witness. To relieve Nelly of her other children Mrs. Wickles put Dick and little sinnng Jem, to bed beside her own boy, and made for Ruth and tiny Nelly a resting place near. She then with Mrs. Bluff, the costermongers wife seated by the fire, sought to aid the poor mother in such small matters, as it was thought might give comfort to the dying child. But few were wanted. To say the truth poor Joe and his wife would have rather been alone-and undisturbed in this sad hour but these attentions were so kindly meant, and stood out in such marked contrast to the brutal callousness, they had left behind, as to be received with all the gratitude they deserved.

Thus the night waned on-the baby sinking lower and lower. Whilst still sensibleit cleaved tenderly to the breast it loved so well-though it refused to suck,; now and then it lifted up its little waxen hand, towards its mothers mouth, and sometimes it strove to turn in the direction where it knew its father sat. Then weeping-as only strong men weep-and lost in grief deeper than he had ever known before, Joe would take it in his arms, and earessing it in the throes of the deepest mortal love -prayed God to spare his little Sam. Then Nelly cleaving to his neck-wept and prayed too. But tears and prayers were unavailing the throes of mortal love however passionate were of no acount. His everlasting laws had been disregarded -and the price must be paid!

As morning began to down through the miserable ragstuffed casement. The widow lay down beside her blind boy, Joe Appleshaw worn down by contending griefs, sank into a weary sleep even where he sat-and Nelly and the costermongers wife-were the only watchers of the dying babe.

So as the dawn grew into early morning the little waxen hand was still, the tiny lips moved no more than to give exit to the ebbing breath, the eyelids quivered though the eyes themselves had looked their last upon the things of this world, and the sinless soul-was near quitting its little earthly tenement, beautiful-and wonderfully fashioned as it was. Then it was that Nelly bent over it-holding it in her arms-afraid to stir nay almost breathelest she hastened it more quickly, than it

must go, upon its solemn journey. Like as with her husband-the throes of her inexpressive angiush were deeper than any she had ever known.-- Sitting in this torpid state Nelly was unconscious that the costermongers wife had risen, gone to a little corner cupboard which was hers, and had now come back with something in a tea cup. She knew it when the woman touched her, and kindly proffered the cup with a welcoming invitation.

"Come my love" she said "thees't bad and 'll be off thyself, if thee dont take something. Come a drop o gin-and right good it be-'ll keep thee up, till thy little Sam, bless his precious heart, be an angel with the Lord. Ay' I'se many a trouble, and couldn't get through 'em, but for the help of a drop.

"But I've promised my master never to touch a drop, replied Nelly, as this temptation in another form was again pressed upon her. "Eh my heart's sore enough and down enough, but I dont like breaking a promise made to Joe.”

"Oh never mind this aint a time for keeping promises and things o that sort. For little Sam's sake thou must take a drop! Come."- So she held the cup close to Nelly's lips, and the gin was drunk!

This was the first time she had ever tasted the spirit. Its effect was therefore great and instantaneous. It seemed to revive, comfort and elevate her, to make her think her troubles less, to even dry her eyes for her little babe. Already worn for want of rest, it soothed her as by a charm to sleep! Not deep sleep-her soul was too troubled for rest such as thatso by and by she woke again, and then the sun shone brightly into the garret room! Her babe lay dead in her embrace.

Through gin- she had lost its dying look, its dying breath! For gin she was to do many other- and more sinful things! - but the agony of this first guiltiness - was never effaced from her soul!

The inmates of the room were now soon astir. The women were all full of sympathy and tender acts, for where not imbrutified to the extent which renders, all feeling callous and dead, there is no sympathy more tender, no loving kindness more genuine, than that of the poor for the poor. We may miss from both, some fine and delicate touches, but genuineness and homely pathos fill up the blank'!

When Mrs. Wickles had ministered in such poor way as she could, to Nelly's

comfort, she departed to the stall she kept in an adjacent street. The Irish woman and the costermonger, went off to Covent Garden. Thus when poor Joe, could rouse himself up sufficiently to go forth to seek a job.- the women and children including the blind boy-were left alone.

Fortunately the poor fellow got some work that day. Entering the shop of a large wholesale grocer in one of the city streets, the master who chanced to be present was struck by his honest looks. Questioning him, and believing his homely tale of sorrow, the good man called up his foreman and asked if a job could be found. This could, and Joe was at once set to work. This he effected with such zeal, that at night he was told to come again, indeed for as long as the extra work might last.

With bread thus secured for a few days, at least, Joe's heart at another time would have been light, but he had to go home, not to see his little Sam, full of beauty and baby life, but for ever silent! Still when he got there, the scene cheered him, Nelly and his children and the blind boy were alone. The former had opened the widows little tea board, set out the best meal she could, and his grief was soothed by her kindly welcome.

"I'ts bin hard doing it 'Joe." she said but I've bin tidying up the children a bit, for poor things, their state was awful. As to the place its a deal quieter than Nix's -and I like it better, but it's a sad place for all that. Such lots o folks on all the floors below-and scarcely a drop o water."

"Well missis replied Joe" we must bide in' the evils for a time, and just now we may get a home o' our own. Then he proceeded to tell her of his good fortune, and the kindness of the gentleman who had given him the work. "But if it had only come a bit a fore,' he said "our little Sam might h'a bin sitting here," patting his knee; instead o lying there," and pointing to the widows bed where the dead baby lay, his grief broke out afresh.

When he was calmer-Nelly spoke to him about its little coffin and burial.

"As to its little shroud" she said with low voice'd grief. "I've, made it one out of my spare flannel petticoats, and as thee can see, it looks sweetly in it. But as to the coffin and burial, I canna think where either be to come from... unless" here she cast her eyes down painfully "it be the pawning o my wedding ring."

"Nay, nay lass-not that" said Joe it maun be a worser press than even this o little Sam-when that goes. For lass, the pride wi which I put it on thy finger -ll never go from me, whilst breath be left in my body. Ay! Nell, never let that go off thy finger, it'll be a real trouble to me if thee do!"

Nelly said it never should. Then they talked over expedients for the burial of the babe, but none could be thought of.

"Thou must wait till, I get my first wages, that 'll be Saturday Night." Joe said this, but Nelly did not think they could keep the babe so long.

"That's not a week," said the costermongers wife-who had just come in-"A week or a fortnight aint thought nothing of, why Mrs. Wickle's own husband weren't buried under a fortnight, and there be scores, o folks that aint got to their graves for much longer. I'ts hard keeping 'em so long-when folks a' got but one room, but what can be done? there be no places to carry the dead to, and it takes poor folks all that time, to get together the berrin money and, a lot's needed too. Why I dussay, this little babe a yourn wont be berr'd under two pound."

"Two pounds" exelaimed poor Nelle "that's a lot a money. Why in the country parts me and my master come from a baby has a nice grave for a few shillings." "It aint so here" rejoined the woman "as you'll find."

Her words were only too true, Joe's work fortunately continued, but it was full a fortnight before enough could be raised to bury the child. Then it was put into its little coffin-and decorated with a few flowers, brought purposely from Covent Garden-by Biddy Sullivan and the costermonger.

"Here's a rosebud for its hand" said Biddy "and a bit of the true gilliflowerfor its feet. The Lord give rest to its soul-it was a jewel-sure enough-that eyes don't often see.'

"Ay precious little Sam" said the father bitterly-for it was evening time, and he was just home from work when this decoration of the dead took place "would h'a bin alive at this minnit-had it not bin for Nix's lodging-but that were the cause of it as surely as little Sam-'ll lie in the earth to morrow night. Ay! rich folks and lords in Parliament dunna know what human woe-comes o herding decent folks-worser than farm yards pigs."

"That aint' all Mr. Appleshaw" added Mrs. Wickles-who had come home for a short time to give her blind boy his tea, "there's the trouble that comes a hoarding the dead amongst the living. If poor folks had decent lodgement, if there'd be two rooms, where thousands of poor folks have now but one, the dead wouldn't have to be day and night, amidst the living. But with this, and the deal o' money it coasts to put a dead cre'tur-in such pits of graves as be for the poor, its horrible."

"What wont our little Sam, have a nice grave to hisself" asked Nelly-bursting into an agony of tears.

The widow made no reply-only shook her head, and lifted up her hands.

On the morrow afternoon, the Sabbath, little Sam was buried. He was carried to one of those horrible Golgotha's in the northern suburbs-the tramp, tramp to which through the crowded streets-being painful to the poor mourners in the extreme. What reverence to the dead could be here what consolation to stricken hearts! No! the sooner we take all mourning processions from the streets, the better for morality-and the finer feelings of the human heart-as Parliamentary evidence has shown!

In the Golgotha the scene was still more painful. Dozens of funerals all crowding in at once-crowds of stricken mourners, throngs of gaping people-and idle loungers — undertakers "sextons, attendants running to and fro, one or two harrassed clergyman, and the windows of the houses round, full of spectators, looking on as though the merriment of a fair were before them, and not the most solemn sight-that belongs to this stage of human existence."

At length the little coffin was borne to the mouth of a huge pit-much like one of the dead pits in Kinsbury described so graphically by Defoe-and there placed with others, whilst the service was read. When Nelly saw the little coffin owered down and others made ready to rest upon the top-when in imagination she sawthe features of her darling babe-all crushed and mangled in this horrible melange of unchristian burial, this suburban grave yard burial of these, our present days, a death like faintness seized her, and she fell senseless in her husband's arms. It was with difficulty she was got hence to the poor Clerkenwell lodging. There a sort of feast was held, gin, beer,

pipes-and some homely viands. But Joe, had no heart for these. Poor and uneducated as he was, there was that that was too manly and too tender in his nature, to permit of his drowning the deepest grief he had ever known in riotous sensualism. So when his children had gone to their poor bed- and Nelly-a degree better and drowsily resting on that of the widow, he went out for a little while, to gain if he could, some tidings of Ned Bingley. When last he heard of the poor fellow, he was very bad and Joe was anxious to hear better

news.

Mrs. Wickles, no more than Joe Appleshaw, liked this burial feast - such as it was, but Biddy Sullivan did, as also the costermonger and his wife. Still as they were her lodgers-and she could not without such assistance, keep a roof over her blind boy, she had to submit though occasionally softening loud laughter and coarse talk by a hush-hush, please."

By and by Biddy rose with a glass of spirits and went towards Nelly.

"There let her alone," said Mrs. Wickles, who sat listening to her boys low singing, for he was chorister at a neighboring church, and the organist a kindly gentleman, had already began to teach him the violin-its quite sinful of you— tempting Mrs. Appleshaw so with liquor!

Sinful" exclaimed Biddy in great wonder. "Sure its the first time I ever heard sich a word said o the comforting drop. Oh sure! it'll do the missis good, that it will, and fill her heart Wid joy instead of the throuble."

So in spite of remonstrances, Biddy and the other woman, raised Nelly up, and put the glass to her lips-though she struggled against their doing so. "Id rather not take it" she said "it made me bad the other night, and cant cure the heart ache about little Sam."

"Oh it will," replied the costermongers wife, "nothin! like it in the whole world for takin pain away."

So by degrees they induced her to drink glass after glass of the filthy and debasing poison, till she fell back stupified on her pillow. When poor Joe came home with the good news that Bingley was better, and had sent a kind message through one of his mates" who had been to the Hospital to see him-that he should soon be up again-and that before long there

would be some good work for his old friend Joe, he found Nelly as he thought in a comfortable sleep-so he made her bed-helped her into it, and when he left her in the morning with a kiss upon her damp and pallid forehead, he was conscious that the seeds of a new and deeper sorrow were sown.

un

Nelly was very ill next day-though it brought a brightness of its own. This was the first morning of Dicks going to school, and Nance came to show him the way thither. Jim was to go-as well as little Ruth, as soon as their mother could get them some shoes and things to make them decent with-for both she and Joe wished them to be as respectable as their poor means afforded-though more than two thirds of the children, went ragged and shoeless. The little lads heart was full of beautiful joy, he was very fond of his book, and as old Madge had well said, there was that in the little fellow, that might be made much of, if the chance were but given.

So days went onwards, Joe's work still continued, and though the wages were low, he was very grateful for the assistance rendered. True to the sterling worth, so often to be found in the English poor, his friend Bingley was not forgotten, every week Joe got an hours leave from the foreman, and went to see the poor fellow, never going there empty handed. Then Nelly went too, and took him a little fruit, and such things, as her poor means afforded.

Thus all would have gone well, but for the corruption begot by the miserable lodging. If Nelly had had a room of her own however poor, where she could have wept out her grief upon her husbands breast, and been soothed by the tenderness and caresses of her children, the mourning in her heart for her little Sam, would have waned imperceptibly, and begot no evil. But here with no opportunity for the hallowed privileges of our being, no home wherein to weep purifying tears, with gin drinking gossiping women always by, to urge the consolation of a dram what wonder that the sin took root and grew. The "drops" at first were the contributions of Biddy Sullivan-or Suky Bluff, but when their want began to be felt, as the craving for them grew, the requisites for the washing tub or the family meal, were pinched to supply it. Then as the barriers of sobriety and shame dropped one by one, Nelly

VOL. IX. N. S.

instead of employing others began to creep into the nearest gin, shop for her dram. She did this stealthily and for some time, not even her children suspected it.

As a matter of course, the house swarmed with children, who would congregate together in the courts below. Nelly for a time did the best she could, to prevent hers mingling with the rest, but it was not always practicable. Besides this Biddy's children, were a good deal at home, and cunning, ignorant, and vicious, were evil company.

One afternoon as Nelly sat knitting, a heavy tramp could be heard ascending the rotten staircase, accompanied by a childs low sobs. Then a heavy hand knocked. With a foreboding of evil-she hurried to the door-and there beheld, a very tall immobile faced policeman, holding Jim in his iron gripe.

"Is this lad yours" he asked sententiously, for it is to be observed, that London policeman affect a good deal of the Jack-in office tone.

"Yes sir," replied Nelly deferentially, "I hope my little boy hasn't been doing wrong.

Well you must take care-he's about with some Irish children of bad characterand next time I may not let him off so easily. A shopkeeper in the neighbourhood has been losing bacon-off his board outside the window, and this boy was seen near it. So be careful, I should have taken him off to the station, but for the excellent character I hear of you and your husband.

"Yes we've always borne good characters," replied Nelly, "we aint bin long out o the steers-and if the boy's took harm, it be of a lodging house, we were forced to go to. And this place aint much better, though the missis, be a decent body."

"The

"No" replied the policeman, softening a little from his Jack in office air. lodging houses are the ruin of women and children. But take care of the boy. -In crime the steps are easy ones." Saying this he took his departure.

Jim was again sullen. But when little Ruth and Nelly-came up stairs-the truth was soon out. At the instigation of two of Biddy's children-he had stolen the bacon, and cutting it into slices with an old knife-they had frizzled it over some lighted shavings in the yard.

C

Nelly was very angry. Attempting to

shake the urchin - he doubled his fist at her, and then evading her grasp--ran from the room. She followed-but in vain.

When her husband came home-she was obliged to confess this new trouble-though she did so reluctantly. For gin had not yet destroyed the divine and maternal in her mothers heart. He was very angryand about to set forth and seek the boy - when Jim sneaked into the room. his rough passion-Joe Appleshaw seized the sinning urchin-pushed him to the landing outside and chastised him with severity.

In

"Will thee do so again-eh" questioned the angry father.

The child made no reply. Again he was questioned.

"Yes-I will if you strike me. Boys not so big as me prig-why not I"-was his sullen answer.

Joe's anger knew no bounds, but for Nelly's interference he would have almost killed the boy. Her tender appeals however mollified his wrath, and wiping away her little lads tears- - she led him back into the room. There however the stern father would let her forgiveness go no farther. He put Jim on a stool in a corner-made him sit there supperless-and would not let the other children notice him.

When his anger was subdued-he told Nelly some good news. Bingley was vastly better-would be discharged from the hospital on the morrow-and soon again at work.

"I'm right glad on it," said Nelly-"and I only hope he wont go to lodge again at that dreadful Nix's.'

"Nothe lass. He's had se' rous thoughts lying on that sick bed o' his'n. Nay what he thinks o do'in is this-if thee be will'n. His masters begin their new contract next week and then the foreman says I shall have my new promised job-that lass at double the wages, I have at present.

Nelly lifted up her hands in joy. "Then Joe-we may get a decent-home."

That's just it missis, and we wont be longo getting it nayther. Well-Ned thinks o being our lodger. If we could get two biggish rooms - he and the lads could sleep in one-and thou couldst do his bit o cooking and washing."

-

"Well thats nice" replied Nelly "and right welcome he'll be."

So they talked a long time about their better prospects. When they went to

rest-Nelly lay sleepless a long time thinking of her little lads sins. And she thought tremblingly of them when she recollected her own.

CHAPTER XIV.

LIDDY'S BIRTHDAY.

To the astonishment of all in the Tadcasters household, the Pools for once broke through their iron rule of economy and seclusion-and invited the Normans to spend Liddy's Birthday evening with them. Though as yet the families had not been on more than speaking terms-Liddy had won a deep way in these solitary women's hearts, not so much through her exceeding beauty, as by her artlessness and naive innocence.

Another cause had assisted in drawing together these bonds of tenderness. Their old mother had from the first taken a great fancy to the child, and this had waxed rapidly into the most solicitous love. She would listen for her footsteps -reckon of her coming-seemed suddenly endowed with new life and spirits-when Liddy entered the room with her magpie on her shoulder-and this to the daughters - who loved the aged creature — with a reverential affection-it is almost impossible to describe-was an attraction of the surest kind. So the Normans were invited to take tea-with the recluses who worked so unweariedly.

The day previously Liddy by her mother's direction asked Miss Brooks-for a holiday on the morrow explaining that it would be her birthday - and she was to spend it at home, Miss Brooks good naturedly consented-and then Liddy in herchild-like way told her governess-about a new while frock she was to wear, and which being an aunts present was to arrive in the morning."

"Well I'm sure" replied Miss Brooks, with perfect sincerity-and little dreaming to what her really innocent wish would lead, "you will look very nicely in it Liddy-I hope I shall see you and if your beautiful hair is a little let down-I shall like seeing you all the better"-"You-shall dear Miss Brooks" replied the warm hearted child-"I will come for a few minutes, and bring you a piece of cake. As to my hair-it will be nicely done-for mother is to dress it."

Nothing more was said in the school