paused and seemed to be seeking an exquisite accuracy. His voice sank
to a confidential note;--"On the head--about here."

He answered the suggestion of a bright junior apprentice in a corner
of the dormitory. "What's the Good of a Cross summons?" he replied;
"with old Corks, the chemist, and Mottishead, the house agent, and all
that lot on the Bench? Humble Pie, that's my meal to-morrow, O' Man.
Humble Pie."

Packing went on for a time.

"But Lord! what a Life it is!" said Parsons, giving his deep notes
scope. "Ten-thirty-five a man trying to do his Duty, mistaken perhaps,
but trying his best; ten-forty--Ruined! Ruined!" He lifted his voice
to a shout. "Ruined!" and dropped it to "Like an earthquake."

"Heated altaclation," said Polly.

"Like a blooming earthquake!" said Parsons, with the notes of a rising
wind.

He meditated gloomily upon his future and a colder chill invaded
Polly's mind. "Likely to get another crib, ain't I--with assaulted the
guvnor on my reference. I suppose, though, he won't give me refs. Hard
enough to get a crib at the best of times," said Parsons.

"You ought to go round with a show, O' Man," said Mr. Polly.

Things were not so dreadful in the police court as Mr. Polly had
expected. He was given a seat with other witnesses against the wall of