ges. New York won't let you work. She
won't help you. She won't protect you. She mocks you. She laughs in
your face. I'd rather die than try to work here!"

During every word of this impassioned speech the Angel and I had been
growing colder and colder. We could see ourselves just where Considine
had found himself--driven out of New York by reason of its abominable
noise.

"And the worst of it is," went on Considine, "is that most of this
noise is so unnecessary. It comes from--"

A terrific crash came from down-stairs. Three doors slammed. Then
some one screamed shrilly. Considine gazed with starting eyes at the
jingling globes and glasses and actually lost a little colour.

"What is it?" he whispered.

"It is nothing," said the Angel, with a wave of the hand, "but our
little friends below stairs. Our neighbour is blessed with five
charming little olive-branches, who have versatile tastes in athletics,
and are bubbling over with animal spirits. We think privately that
they are the meanest little devils that ever cursed an apartment-house,
but their noise is dear to their parents, and they would not allow it
when we fain would boil the children alive or beat them with bed-slats."

Jimmie laughed heartlessly, but Considine took his head between his
hands.

"They have just illustrated what I was going to say. Nobody has any
regard for the rights of others. Peddlers are allowed horns, and
cornets, and strings of bells. Why not allow them to send up poisoned
balloons to explode in your open windows, and thus call attention to
their wares? I wouldn't object a bit more! Why do parents allow such
noises? Have you ever remonstrated with the mother?"

"Oh, yes," said the Angel. "One day Faith called and apologized to
Mrs. Gottlieb, but begged to know if she might not take the children
out herself in order to let me finish a chapter. But Mrs. Gottlieb was
justly incensed at any one daring to object to the healthful sports of
her little brood, and said: 'Mrs. Jardine, my children are in their own
apartment, and I shall allow them to make all the noise they wish.'"

"And the next day," I broke in, excitedly, "she bought the three girls
tin horns and the boys drums!"

Considine ground his teeth.

"If our wicked ways of life demanded that each of us should bear some
horrible affliction, but Providence had mitigated the sentence by
allowing us to choose our own form of mutilation," he said, slowly,
"