Jonah

front of the house and rattled the lids of his cans to attract her attention. His voice, thin and cracked wit

ies, all 'o

and when he raised the lids of the shining cans, a fragrant steam rose on the air. T

AVE THO

ES WOULD HA

hat Joey had risen from humble beginnings to his presen

ey chose hot pies, full of rich gravy that ran out if you were not careful how you bit; or they preferred the plump saveloy, smoking hot from the can, giving out a savour

here altogether. He feared a trap; and when she pointed out the danger of t

ss that he could not talk for five minutes without stumbling on marriage. In the midst of a conversation on the weather, he would be amazed to find the theme turn to the

riest making a convert. When he saw her drift, it set him thinking, and he wat

rt, torn and shabby; her bodice was split under the arms, showing the white lining. Her hair lay flat on her forehead, screwed tightly in curling-pins, which bro

ocession of Chook's loves crossed his mind, and he smiled. At regular intervals Chook "went balmy" over some girl or other, and, while the fit lasted

ness. The vagabond in him recoiled from the set labours and common burdens of his kind. Ever since he could remember he had been more at home in the streets than in t

. Jonah stood his ground, and pointed out, with cynical candour, his unfitness to keep a wife. But Mrs Yabsley seized

he time 'e used ter 'awk a basket o' fish on Fridays, an' doss in park? An' now 'e goes round in a white shirt, an' draws 'is rents. An' mark me,

Git up an' light the fire, an'

ey feigne

s 'awkin' fish," pursued Jonah;

for him, chiefly in connection with a shop, for to her, who lived by the

s all right fer them as don't know better, bu

streets with the gang, with the zest of a drunkard returning to his cups. Mr

xt door, had put the police on his track. The Push resolved to stoush him, and had lain in wait for a week without success. Jonah took the matter in hand, and inquired secretly into the man's habits. H

Jonah suddenly thought of Ada. It was weeks since he had last seen her. He was surpr

key from under the flowerpot and went in. He struck a match and looked round. The irons were o

le, propped against the wall on account of a broken leg, the ragged curtain stretched across the window, the new shelf that he had made out of a box. He studied,

en a child by his parents, who had rid themselves of his unwelcome presence

ountry. Until he was twelve he had sold newspapers, sleeping in sheds and empty cases, feeding on the broken victuals thrown out from the kitchens

ut, at that moment, from the corner of the room, came a thin, wailing cry. Jonah started violently, and then, as he recognized t

e, thin and sustained. Jonah stooped to blow out the candle,

from the hands that had rocked it. Jonah pulled it out of the corner into

his aversion from the child, had kept it out of the way. It was the first baby that he had seen at close quarters, for he had never li

e candle, which Jonah was holding near. Its fi

child-flesh of his flesh, bone of his bone-and, with a sw

dab of flesh; but its eyes were grey, like his own. His interest increased. Gently he stroked the fine silky down that co

with the tenacity of a monkey. Jonah looked in wonder at that tiny hand, no

red his red, hairy skin with that delicate texture; amazed by

and felt its back, a passionate fear in his heart: it was straight as a die. He drew a long breath, and was

ers. It lay contentedly on his knees, its eyes closed, already fatigued. And, as Jonah watched it, there suddenly vibrated in him a strange, new sensation-the sense of patern

ure emotion of his life, his heart filled with an immense pity for this frail

shamed and defiant, like a boy caught with the jam-pot. He expected Mrs Yabsley or Ada; it was Chook, breathless with has

'E likes, pink for preference," h

th a deepening scowl,

s voice was between a whine and