“Boys, you see, from the thick parts of London,” said the old gentleman explaining. “Rough lads on Sundays. They get amongst the empty and unfinished houses, troops of them, to play pitch-and-toss, and they throw stones and break windows and slates.”
“And knock down the plaster and bricks,” added the old lady.
“Ah! they most levelled one wall close by,” said the old gentleman.
“They’re so fond of making seesaws of the wood, too,” said the old lady.
“And splashing about in the pools of water,” said the old gentleman.
“And the agents, on account of this, have took to having the police,” said the old lady.
“To keep the boys away?” I asked.
“Yes; you see, it’s the married police and their wives take charge of the houses, and when the boys know that there’s policemen about, why, of course they stay away.”
“But it makes it very bad for such as we,” said the old lady.
“Fifteen years is a long time to live rent-free,” I said smiling.