Rogues and Vagabonds

ntlemen,

to closing time, and the patrons of the Blue Pigeons required a great deal of soft persuasion, as a rule, before they

was warm and cheery, the brilliant gas flared upon polished pewter, and gay-coloured glass, through the open door of the bar-parl

, and every time the big door swung open to admit a benighted traveller a roaring blast of east wind followed

no wonder that once under the hospitable portals, and sheltered from the

ntlemen,

on into his warning note, and gave the sign to the p

ere turned up, shawls were flung over battered bonnets, hands were thrust deep into trousers pockets, there was a little laughing, more growling, and a great deal of

re

llars and human kennels, to low lod

inkers separates, and each component part of it wends his or her way to some place which is 'home,'-some pl

he sounds of revelry and riot linger in the narrow streets long after the public has disgorged its prey, and men and women stand about at the street corners

he populace have hurried off to such shelter as they can find. A thick fog, too, has begun to settl

still hovers about the close

l closing time, and has come out

does duty for a good many mouths sometimes, and neither the landlord nor the potman noticed the stranger sufficiently to discover that during the entir

ive into the house to escape the storm, and it had sheltered him for an hour or tw

d to himself. 'What the dickens am I to do? I sup

his soaked jacket, looked

e longer, I can be drowned where I am. I'll look about for an arch or a gate

hands that every now and then wiped the rain-drops from his beard and moustache; you saw it in his bearing as he

ion, and there was nothing startlingly new to him in the utter empti

vain to drift into some means of gaining a livelihood. Every avenue was closed against him, for his past life was a sealed book, and he had no on

g he had had been detained for the four weeks' rent which he had

o secure from his scanty belongings, and these only

users pockets to shake from the brim of his hat a small pool of water which had begun to trickle down his neck. He drew the li

with lying long in folds and

tten on. I wonder how that got in my trousers pocket, instead of being with the other papers! I must have put it i

tance carefully, and pu

in and lie quiet a bit. I wonder what's become of the old set-if they've all gone to the dogs, like I have! Egerton was a queer fish, but he had rich relati

the streaming streets, he was suddenly arouse

middle of the roadway, and a gentleman was leaning out of the

s Marston looked up, 'can you tell me which is Little Queer

ered Marston; 'I'm

names written up at the corners from the road, and I can't tra

Marston, with an offe

e carriage gave a

e rain will do you much harm; you don't app

, soaked to the skin; for the moment he had forgot

to look for?' he sa

15; and if you find it I

e Board of Works are good enough to label the street corners, and which are so high up and so small that an ordinary-sighted person requires a la

and enjoying a quiet pipe down a particularly deserted side street, Marston discovered where Little Queer Street was, and ascertained which side

telligence, and communic

for his trouble,' said the doctor, for the coachman was

trousers pockets, then in his wa

d, presently, 'have

, s

ordinary thing-but I've come out without any money. Here, however, is my card. Cal

shing Marston with mud, and leaving him crestfallen and disa

eakfast. I earned that shilling, and I never wanted it more in my life. What the dickens does a two-horse doctor do here, I wonder!

nd stood under a lamp-post to

mist through which the rays fell feebly. But feebly as they fell on the small piece of pasteboard and t

e dazed; then he read the card aloud,

liver

e L

c Tre

ohn's

age lamps, or I should have cried out and betrayed myself. I can do better by waiting, perhaps. Ah, Mr. Oliver Birnie! it isn't a shilling I've earned to-night-it's many and m