out, and I became a fighting character. Thirty years ago I came up to
London to fight Ben Caunt, and I licked him. I'm sixty-three now, and
I didn't think I should ever come up to London to fight for King Jesus.
But here I am, and I wish I could read out of the blessed Book for then
I could talk to you better. But I never learnt to read, though I'm
hoping by listening to the conversation around me to pick up a good
deal of the Bible, and then I'll talk to you better. I'm only two years
old at present, and know no more than a baby. It's two years ago since
Jesus came to me and had a bout with me, and I can tell you He licked
me in the first round. He got me down on my knees the first go, and
there I found grace. I've got a good many cups and belts which I won
when I was a fighting character. Them cups and belts will fade, but
there's a crown being prepared for old Bendigo that'll never fade."

This and much more to the same purport the veteran said, and then Mr.
Dupee interposed with more "few words," the plate was sent round, and
the superintendent and Bendigo went downstairs to relieve "brother Jim,"
the echo of whose stentorian voice had occasionally been wafted in at
the open door whilst Bendigo was relating his experiences.

"FIDDLER JOSS."

It was at another Mission Chapel in Little Wild Street, Drury Lane, that
I "sat under" Fiddler Joss. His "dictionary name," as in the course of
the evening I learned from one of his friends, is Mr. Joseph Poole. The
small bills which invited all into whose hands they might fall to "come
and hear Fiddler Joss" added the injunction "Come early to secure a
seat." The doors were opened at half-past six, and those who obeyed the
injunction found themselves in a somewhat depressing minority. At
half-past six there were not more than a score of people present, and
these looked few indeed within the walls of the spacious chapel. It is a
surprise to find so well-built, commodious, it may almost be added
handsome, a building in such a poor neighbourhood, and bearing so humble
a designation. It provides comfortable sitting room for twelve hundred
persons. There is a neat, substantial gallery running round the hall,
and forming at one end a circular pulpit, evidently designed after the
fashion of Mr. Spurgeon's at the Tabernacle--a building of which the
Mission Chapel is in many respects a miniature.

The congregation began to drop in by degrees, and proved to be of a
character altogeth