the river, he fell upon his face, and did not rise again. I saw his
arms beating feebler and feebler as he sank till at last the oily
slime closed over him, and I could detect nothing but a faint heaving
underneath the mud. And after a time even that ceased.

It was late before I reached home, and fortunately my father and
mother were still out. I did not tell any one what I had seen, having
sworn not to; and as time went on the incident haunted me less and
less until it became subservient to my will. But of my fancy for
those silent, lifeless streets it cured me for the time. From behind
their still walls I would hear that long cry; down their narrow vistas
see that writhing figure, like some animated ginger-bread, hopping,
springing, falling.

Yet in the more crowded streets another trouble awaited me, one more
tangible.

Have you ever noticed a pack of sparrows round some crumbs perchance
that you have thrown out from your window? Suddenly the rest of the
flock will set upon one. There is a tremendous Lilliputian hubbub, a
tossing of tiny wings and heads, a babel of shrill chirps. It is
comical.

"Spiteful little imps they are," you say to yourself, much amused.

So I have heard good-tempered men and women calling out to one another
with a laugh.

"There go those young devils chivvying that poor little beggar again;
ought to be ashamed of theirselves."