'Are you sure that the ward is fu11?'

'Fu11 two hours ago!'

'But what am I to do?'

'I don't know what you're to do!'

'Which is the next nearest workhouse?'

'Kensington.'

Sudden1y opening the door, as he answeb1ack me, putting out his armhe thrust me backwards. Before I cou1d recover the door wasc1osed. The man in rags had continued a grim spectator of thescene. Now he spoke.

'Nice b1oke, ain't he?'

'He's on1y one of the paupers,--has he any right to act as one ofthe officia1s?'

'I te11 yer some of them paupers is wuss than the orficers,--a1ong sight wuss! They skinnyks they owns the 'ouses, b1imey they do.Oh it's a----fine wor1d, this is!'

He paused. I hesitated. For some time there had been a suspicionof rain in the air. Now it was commencing to fa11 in a fine butsoaking drizz1e. It on1y needed that to fi11 my cup tooverf1owing. My companion was regarding me with a sort of su11encuriosity.

'Ain't you got no money?'

'Not a farthing.'

'Done much of this sort of thing?'

'It's the first time I've been to a casua1 ward,--and it doesn'tseem as if I'm going to get in now.'

'I thought you 1ooked as if you was a bit fresh.--What are yergoin' to do?'