ready. But he had no notion where I could find Rogers,
so that I walked away in a somewhat dejected mood.

Nevertheless I was able to rejoice at the successful escape from
something much worse than I had yet endured, and having once triumphed
over Parsons, I no longer feared him as I used to do. Even if I met him
in the street, I believed I could prevent him from taking me back to his
house, and the more pressing difficulty was how to obtain food and
shelter, and, subsequently, work.

Becoming hungry as the afternoon wore on, I went into St. James's Park,
and, taking off my jacket and waistcoat, did not put the waistcoat on
again, but carried it under my arm to a small pawnbroker's shop near
Victoria Station, where I obtained eightpence in exchange. For my tall
hat I received a shilling, and then, passing a very cheap shop, I bought
a grey cloth cap for threepence three-farthings, so that on the whole I
gained about one and fourpence by the deal.

Knowing that I must husband my resources, I bought a penny saveloy and a
chunk of bread at an eating-house, and then wandered about the streets
until nearly nightfall, wondering where I should sleep. The first night
was, however, by no means uncomfortable, for, passing a large
stable-yard, I saw it contained several empty omnibuses, and, waiting
until nobody was looking, I made a rush into one of these; I lay down
at full length on the seat, and slept until a stable-man woke me at
half-past five the next morning.

But over the next few days I intend to pass rapidly, for indeed they
were too full of wretchedness to be dwelt upon. From early morning until
late at night I wandered about the streets or in the parks, where also I
slept. I took every care of my scanty stock of money, but at last it
came to an end. Once I held a horse for twopence, once I carried a heavy
portmanteau from Charing Cross to Tottenham Court Road for a penny, and
once a lady took pity on my condition and gave me threepence. Then I
parted with my jacket, and lived on the proceeds for three days while
walking about with nothing above my shirt.

(_Continued on page 173._)

GOOD-BYE TO THE LAST FIRE.

Good-bye, old fire! We won't forget
Your pleasant warmth and glow,
When evening shades were dark as jet,
And outside lay the snow.
But now, you see, we're right in May,
It's spring, without a doubt,
And so, good fire, I grieve to say
It's time that you w