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Lucretia — Volume 04 by Baron Edward Bulwer Lytton Lytton
page 21 of 106 (19%)
Meanwhile, openly and frankly, he loved his crossing; he was proud of his
crossing; he was grateful to his crossing. God help thee, son of the
street, why not? He had in it a double affection,--that of serving and
being served. He kept the crossing, if the crossing kept him. He smiled
at times to himself when he saw it lie fair and brilliant amidst the mire
around; it bestowed on him a sense of property! What a man may feel for
a fine estate in a ring fence, Beck felt for that isthmus of the kennel
which was subject to his broom. The coronation had made one rebellious
spirit when it swept the sweeper from his crossing.

He stood, then, half under the colonnade of the Opera House as the crowd
now rapidly grew thinner and more scattered: and when the last carriage
of a long string of vehicles had passed by, he muttered audibly,--

"It'll take a deal of pains to make she right agin!"

"So you be's 'ere to-day, Beck!" said a ragamuffin boy, who, pushing and
scrambling through his betters, now halted, and wiped his forehead as he
looked at the sweeper. "Vy, ve are all out pleasuring. Vy von't you
come with ve? Lots of fun!"

The sweeper scowled at the urchin, and made no answer, but began
sedulously to apply himself to the crossing.

"Vy, there isn't another sweep in the streets, Beck. His Majesty King
Bill's currynation makes all on us so 'appy!"

"It has made she unkimmon dirty!" returned Beck, pointing to the dingy
crossing, scarce distinguished from the rest of the road.

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