The Town Traveller

at Mr. Gammon's door, and was

know what time it is, sir? 'Co

heerfully from within.

sir; a

t down outside and shout. And I say, Moggie, ask somebody to run across and get me a 'Police News' and

om another room on the same floor, a voice very distin

ant my hot w

s," answered Moggie in

e hollering at people's doors, how can anyone sleep

wait till it g

uble I'd come out and smack your fa

ess of the indignity she had suffered. There was no living in the house with that Miss Sparkes, who treated everybody like dirt under her feet. Smack her face, would she? What next? An

otted and pinned into a ball on the top of her head. Here and there about the kitchen ran four children, who were snatching a sort of picnic breakfast whilst they made ready for school. They looked healthy enough, and gabbled,

she comes down. What was it as Mr. Gammon wanted? Breakfast

never closed the top!" urged Moggie in

fill the big kettle, and put it on before you go. Sally, you ain't a-goin' to school without brushin' your 'air? Do see af

whispered a request that the lodger would repeat his orders. Mr. Gammon did so with perfect good

at the

Moggie stood to listen, an a

hat little beast wha

he thinly-carpeted stairs. One minute later Miss Sparkes' door opened and Miss Sparkes herself rushed forth-a startling vision of wild auburn ha

kindness to send me up my hot water i

landlady. It sounded so near to Miss Sp

od time, my dear. Wrong foo

re followed a lazy laugh

y the three newspapers he had bespoken. Polly Sparkes throughout her leisurely toilet was moved to irritation and curiosity by the sound

nvoluntary grin. "What a fool he is! And why's he staying in bed this m

with Mrs. Bubb she had arrayed herself thus early with more care than usual, that her colours and perfumes might throw contempt upon the draggle-tailed landlady, whom, b

ol

hsafed n

Spar

el

me to see my bow-w

on, I certain

I felt a bit afraid

wall-paper, plaster, and old wood, the fustiness of clogged carpets trodden thin, the ever-rising vapours from a sluttish kitchen. As Moggie happened to be wiping down the front steps the door stood open, affording a glimpse of trams and omnibuses, cabs and carts, with pedestrians bobbing past in endless variety-the life of Kennington Road-all dust and sweat under a glaring summer sun. To Miss Sparkes a cheery and inviting spectacle-for the whole day was before

Polly to encourage this misconception, and to take offence on every opportunity. As she went down into the kitchen she fingered a gold watch-chain that hung from h

d was still rich in possibilities when, at something past eleven