considerable pools of water, the stench and the colour whereof led
to the supposition that the inhabitants facilitated domestic
operations by emptying casual vessels out of the windows. The dirty
little casements on the ground floor exhibited without exception a
rag of red or white curtain on the one side, prevailing fashion
evidently requiring no corresponding drapery on the other. The Court
was a _cul de sac_, and at the far end stood a receptacle for ashes,
the odour from which was intolerable. Strangely enough, almost all
the window-sills displayed flower-pots, and, despite the wretched
weather, several little bird-cages hung out from the upper storeys.
In one of them a lark was singing briskly.

They began their progress through the tenements, commencing at the
top of Litany Lane. Many of the rooms were locked, the occupiers
being away at their work, but in such case the rent had generally
been left with some other person in the house, and was forthcoming.
But now and then neither rent nor tenant was to be got at, and dire
were the threats which Abraham bade the neighbours convey to the
defaulters on their return. His way with one and all was curt and
vigorous; to Waymark it seemed needlessly brutal. A woman pleading
inability to make up her total sum would be cut short with a
thunderous oath, and the assurance that, if she did not pay up in a
day or two, every stick would be carried off. Pitiful pleading for
time had absolutely no effect upon Abraham. Here and there e tenant
would complain of high rent, and point out a cracked ceiling, a
rotten piece of stairs, or something else imperatively calling for
renovation. "If you don't like the room, clear out," was the
landlord's sole reply to all such speeches.

In one place they came across an old Irish woman engaged in washing.