"Yes," the boy said. "When it ain't market day and ye haven't saved
enough to buy a few papers or boxes of matches it does come hard.
In winter the times is bad, but in summer we gets on fairish, and
there ain't nothing to grumble about. Are you out of work yourself?"

"Yes," Frank answered, "I'm on the lookout for a job."

"You'd have a chance here in the morning," said the boy, looking
at him. "You look decent, and might get a job unloading. They won't
have us at no price, if they can help it."

"I will come and try anyhow," Frank said.

That evening Frank told his friend, the porter, that he thought of
going out early next morning to try and pick up odd jobs at Covent
Garden.

"Don't you think of it," the porter said. "There's nothing worse
for a lad than taking to odd jobs. It gets him into bad ways and
bad company. Don't you hurry. I have spoken to lots of my mates,
and they're all on the lookout for you. We on the platform can't do
much. It ain't in our line, you see; but in the goods department,
where they are constant with vans and wagons and such like, they
are likely enough to hear of something before long."

That night, thinking matters over in bed, Frank determined to go
down to the docks and see if he could get a place as cabin boy.
He had had this idea in his mind ever since he lost his money, and
had only put it aside in order that he might, if possible, get some