hich the writer himself had taken a
part.

He dropped it doubtfully into the editor's box and tried to forget about
it. He dared not look at the paper next day, and when two days passed
and he heard nothing, he concluded that the bolt had missed fire.

But it was not so. A week later, the postman entered Storr Alley--an
unheard-of event--and left a letter. It contained a money order for ten
shillings, and read:--

"The editor encloses ten shillings for the letter on Slum Life,
contributed by Mr John to the paper of the 23rd. He can take two more
on the same subject at the same terms, and suggests that Mr John should
deal specially with--" And here the editor gave an outline of the topics
on which the public would be most likely to desire information.

With overflowing heart, and giving Raby the credit, he sat down and
wrote the two articles.

His first half-sovereign went in a deed of mercy. Little Annie lay dead
in her bed the night it arrived. Jeffreys that morning, before he
started to work, had watched the little spark of life flicker for the
last time and go out. The mother, worn-out by her constant vigils, lay
ill beside her dead child. The father, a drunkard, out of work,
deserted the place, and the two other children, the baby, and the sister
scarcely more than baby, wailed all day for cold and hunger. What could
he do but devote the first-fruits of his pen to these companions in
distress? The half-sovereign sufficed for the child's funeral, with a
little over for the sick mother. For the rest, he took the baby to his
own garret for a night or two, and tended it there as best he could.

The two fresh letters to the paper in due time brought a sovereign; but
at the same time a chilling notification to the effect that the editor
did not need further contributions, and would let Mr John know if at
any future time he required his services.

It was the abrupt closing of one door of promise. Still Jeffreys, with
hope big within him, did not sit and fret.

Literary work might yet be had, and meanwhile bodily labour must be
endured.

Towards the beginning of December, any one taking up one of the London
penny papers might have observed, had he been given to the study of such
matters, three advertisements. Here they are in their proper order:--

"Should this meet the eye of John Jeffreys, late private secretary to a
gentleman in Cumberland, he is earnestly requested to communicate with
his friend