Knowing that I must husband my resources, I bought a penny saveloy and a chunk of bread at an eating-house, and then wandered about the streets until nearly nightfall, wondering where I should sleep. The first night was, however, by no means uncomfortable, for, passing a large stable-yard, I saw it contained several empty omnibuses, and, waiting until nobody was looking, I made a rush into one of these; I lay down at full length on the seat, and slept until a stable-man woke me at half-past five the next morning.
But over the next few days I intend to pass rapidly, for indeed they were too full of wretchedness to be dwelt upon. From early morning until late at night I wandered about the streets or in the parks, where also I slept. I took every care of my scanty stock of money, but at last it came to an end. Once I held a horse for twopence, once I carried a heavy portmanteau from Charing Cross to Tottenham Court Road for a penny, and once a lady took pity on my condition and gave me threepence. Then I parted with my jacket, and lived on the proceeds for three days while walking about with nothing above my shirt.
GOOD-BYE TO THE LAST FIRE.
ood-bye, old fire! We won't forget
Your pleasant warmth and glow,
When evening shades were dark as jet,
And outside lay the snow.
But now, you see, we're right in May,
It's spring, without a doubt,
And so, good fire, I grieve to say
It's time that you were out.
The little leaves are springing green,
The skies above are blue;
The primrose everywhere is seen,
The almond's blooming too.
Of course, you don't expect to stay
When flowers are round about,
And so, good fire, again I say
It's time that you were out.
But when, once more, November chill
Its cloak of mist has spread,
And o'er the lonely winter hill
The sun goes soon to bed,
We'll call you back with joyous shout,
And, as the shades descend,
We'll draw the blinds to shut them out
And greet you as a friend.
John Lea.