y have come an unbidden guest and borne away the fairest and the
best beloved. At this hour the young bride in all her beauty may be
struck down in mortal agony, or the wee pet lamb, whose little silver
laugh had so often dispelled the dark cloud that gathered round the home,
or the grey-haired man, having just reached the goal, and achieved an
independence, may find himself left in this bleak, dark, wide world
alone.

Leaves have their time to fall,
And flowers to wither at the north wind's breath,
And stars to set; but all--
Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death.

And now let us forget all this, and knock at this door, above which
streams a mellow light, and from which we hear sounds of boisterous
gaiety. Is it not open yet? Then give another rap. Ah, it is all right
now. "Take care of your pockets," says Cerberus, in a low voice,--"there
are some rum blokes here." We will, my friend.

Yes, they must be rum blokes who come here into this filthy, stinking
shop, and amongst this filthy, ragged, swearing crew of reprobates. If
you wish to see a set of fellows whose mere looks would hang them, I
think they are about us now. Even the landlord seems uncomfortable in
their presence, and wisely allows as little as possible of temptation in
his house or on his person. He knows, I believe, they would as soon rob
him as any one else, and his small ferrety eyes are evidently wide awake.
Indeed, none of the party look as if they had much honest sleep, and in
the daylight, I imagine, would present a somewhat seedy appearance. We
generally think cabmen not scrupulously honest, but perhaps these cabmen,
with ancient great coats and well muffled up, are the honestest fellows
here. Then of course there is an Irish "widder," with melancholy face
and a string of ballads, such as "Mary Blane," "The Red, White, and
Blue," "Cheer, boys, cheer," all of which she is willing to dispose of on
the most reasonable terms. A decayed swell, probably a railway director
in the great year of bubbles, with extraordinary sponges--an article I
should have thought quite as unsaleable as soap to the _habitues_,--and a
jockey-like looking person with knives with most wonderful and
unaccountable blades, or with some fancy work-boxes or other articles
equally ingenious and useless. Women are here, of course, in the last
stage of their profligate career, driven out of decent houses, unfit to
associate with the well-d