"Yes; a sort of narrow, dark, musty place, with a row of old, tumble-down tenements each side, where poor wretches live all huddled up together, fifty in a house, eh? I was told I couldn't drive up it in a carriage, so I had to walk. Do you know such a place?"
"Do I know such a place! Do I know Rag Alley? Oh, my eye! Oh, he! he! he! he!"
"What are you laughing at now, you miscellaneous assortment of variegated pieces?"
"Oh! oh, dear! I was laughing to think how well I knew Rag Alley!"
"Humph! you do look as if you were born and bred there."
"But, sir, I wasn't!"
"Humph! How did you get into life, then?"
"I don't know, governor, unless I was raked up from the gutter by some old woman in the rag-picking line!" said the newsboy, demurely.
"Humph. I think that quite likely! But now, do you say that you know where that alley is?"
"Oh, don't set me off again! Oh, he! he! he! Yes, sir, I know."