The Nether World

e of treatment — it will be convenient to distinguish broadly, and with reference to males alone, the two great sections of those who do, an

texture, of fold, of knot, observed in the ranks of unskilled labour. And among these whose higher station is indicated by the linen or paper symbol, what a gap between the mechanic with collar attached to a flannel shirt, and just visible along the top of a black tie, and the s

with whom he sat, without exception, had something white and stiff round their necks; in fact, they were every bit as respectable as Sidney Kirkwood, and such as he, who bent over a jeweller’s table. To John Hewett it was no slight gratification that he had been able to apprentice his son to a craft which permitt

hed the opportunities of capable men; but a fair living was promised the lad if he stuck to his work, and at the age of nineteen he was already earning his pound a week. Then he was clever in a good many other ways. He had an ear for music, played (nothing else was within his reach) the concertina, sang a lively song with uncommon melodiousness — a gift much appreciated at the meetings of a certain Mutual Benefit Club, to which his father had paid a weekly subscription, without fail, through all adversities. In the regular departments of learning Bob had never shown any particular aptitude; he wrote and read decently, but his speech, as you have had occasion for observing, was not marked by refinement, and for books

rats, and the mere odour of him was intolerable to ordinary nostrils; yet he was a species of hero in Bob’s regard, such invaluable information could he supply with regard to ‘events’ in which young Hewett took a profound interest. Perhaps a more serious aspect of Bob’s disregard for social standing was revealed in his relations with the other sex. Susceptible from his tender youth, he showed no ambition in the bestowal of his amorous homage. At the age of sixteen did he not declare his resolve to wed the daughter of old Sally Budge, who went about selling watercress? and was there not a desperate conflict at home before this project could be driven from his head? It was but the first of many such

eckover’s house. The family had been ousted some eighteen months ago on account of failure to pay their rent and of the frequent intoxication of Mrs. Candy. Pennyloaf’s legal name was Penelope, which, being pronounced as a trisyllable, transformed itself by further corruption into a sound at all events conveying some meaning. Applied in the first instance jocosely, the title grew inseparable from her, and was the one she herself always used. Her employment was the making of shirts for export; she earned on an average tenpence a day, and frequently worked fifteen hours

end of April, Bob encountered Pennyloaf; she ha

aimed, catching her by the

ot some things to put awa

Passage to-night.

een such rows at ‘ome. You know mot

l right! come if you

e-slave. Her habitual look was one of meaningless surprise; whatever she gazed upon seemed a source of astonishment to her, and when she laughed, which was not very often, her eyes grew wider than ever

into one of a series of compartments constructed before the pawnbroker’s counter. She deposited her bundle, and looked about for someone to attend to her. Two young men were in sight, both transacting business; one was conversing facetiously with a

reased into the discipline he deemed becoming, with an aquiline nose, a coarse mouth, a large horseshoe pin adorning his necktie,

ubbing his tongue along his upp

’ six, pl

d turn of the hand, and said indifferently, g

so long ago,’ pleaded Pennyloaf, with a subservi

g a smile of intelligence with his counter-companion with respect to a piec

u goin’ to ta

sighed a

apenny?’

N

facile flourish, and having blotted the little piece of card on a box of sand (a custom which survives in this conservative profession), he t

ed out of sight after the first few yards, and left surmise to busy itself with the characteristics of the hidden portion. A stranger bold enough to explore would have discovered that the Gardens had a blind offshoot, known simply as ‘The Court.’ Needless to burden description with further detail; the slum was like any other slum; filth, rottenness, evil odours, possessed these dens of superfluous mankind and made them gruesome to the peering imag

ity; she could wait till the morning to hear who had half-killed whom. Four days ago it was her own mother’s turn to be pounded into insensibility; her father (a journeyman baker, often working nineteen hours out of the twenty-four, which probably did not improve his temper), maddened by his wife’s persistent drunkenness, was stopped just on the safe side of murder. To the amazement and indignation of

in at an open door and felt her way up a staircase; the air was noisome, notwithstanding a fierce draught which swept down the stairs. She entered a room lighted by a small metal lamp hanging on the wall — a precaution of Pennyloaf’s own contrivance. There was no bed, but one mattress lay with a few rags of bed-clothing spread upon it, and two others were rolled up in a corner. This chamber accommodated, under ordinary circumstances, four persons: Mr. and Mrs. Candy, Pennyloaf

ked, in the thick voice of

e; it’s all t

throat, but exhibited

, after a pause. ‘There is sugar. An’ br

which stood by the hearth.

to abstain,’ &c. &c.; each time she was in earnest. But it appeared that the help of God availed little against the views of one Mrs. Green, who kept the beer-shop in Rosoman Street, once Mrs. Peckover’s, and who could on no account afford to lose so good a customer. For many years that house, licensed for the sale of non-spirituous liquors, had been working Mrs. Candy

e had now abandoned her for good, and it was certain that the fear of him was the only thing that ever checked her on the ruinous road she would so willingly have quitted. But for the harm to himself, the only pity was he had not taken her life outr

of anything in their room than would last them for the current day. There being no kettle, water was put on to boil in a tin saucepan; the tea was made in a jug. Pennyloaf had always bee

s, on the already extended mattress, and drew the ra

seven feet high; on the one hand lies the New River Head, on the other are small gardens behind Myddelton Square. The branches of a few trees hang over; there are doors, seemingly never opened, belonging one to each garden; a couple of gas-lamps shed feeble light. Pennyloaf paced the length of the Passage several times, meet

r nothing to live on?’ he inquired, when he had listened

head, the habitual surprise of her countenan

then with the other. He whistled a few bars of

of shamefacedness, ‘there’s a namesake of mine her

his hand. Pennyloaf turned away, cast

or a bit,’ she s

pocket. He whistled again for

you seen

amining him with sudden ac

’s got her back up

Pennyloaf as

little distance, and almost immediately withdrew again round a winding of the Passage. A moment

lieve it was Jeck Bartley. If Jeck is up to any of his l

e and was now springing out of ambush. She rushed upon Pennyloaf, who for very alarm could not flee, and attacked her with clenched fists. A scream of terror and pain caused Bob to turn and run back. Pennyloaf could not even ward off the blows that descended upon her head; she was pin

to Pennyloaf. ‘If she tries t

former to be off, and was at length obeyed. When Pennyloaf was out of sight he released Clem. Her twisted arms caused he

violent language and straightway pass into oblivion; but Miss Peckover’s malevolence was of no common stamp, and the scene