LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIV, Issue 2588, 24 July 1882, Page 4

LITERATURE.

JLN .2B3THETIO FLIRT. (Continued.) Among his many friends at the Fa3t end -Wrt a family of the name of White. Mrs White was awiio w. Bhe lat cheap lodging*. Her eldest child, Sara, added to their smal income by playing humb'.e parts at East-end theatres. She was a good g'.rl. this i-ara with laughing blue eyes, a pre'.tlly shaped uensltivo fao, and a great deal of fair hair. Mh White wculd exolalm—•lt's not, sir, because some folks never Hook whera they are going and drag their (shirts through every puddle they can, that -cntheH! can't walk in clean places.' Gi'aricson became very fond of Sara-not at all in a sentimental way; he had quite done with that. He regarded her more ss» father might regard a pet child. She believed in him too; and that was nice. Often, on fiae Sucdiya, would he come and Stake hor off to Richmond or Kew, or somewhere where she coild gather wild flDwe-a, if it were in tha &e ison of them. To Bee her plaaaura always pleased him. Mra White herself was not at all an lilmeaning woman. She was shockingly untidy though in her appearance, and she had st temper of own. One gray October Bunlay afternoon Mr Clarkaon found hlm-elf, after a two months absence on his t ummer holiday, again near Mrs White's houee. It was a depressing day, and at Its most depressed time - between three and four o'clock. As ha walked down the dingy etreeta, with the dirty houses on cither side <jf him- houses that had a look of grim content about them, as rf they had now growj proud of their dirt, and would not, if they thsy eiuld, be differbat— I Bay, an he walked along, smoking a very good cigar, he heard She melanoho'y o-y.of ' Water-creases; flue water creeses 1' In-front ol him, with a short oUy pipe in Ms mouth, a man wai forolng a reluotant donkey drawing a barrow, the contents of -whioh the driver roared, out. from time to time, in a voice suggesting that he would speedily do violence to the passers-by if they did not purchase his nuts and apples •Tang, 'tang,' kept on all the time from what, to judge by the sound, must have been a very-cracked ohuroh bell. Mrs White resided at IS Upper Poplar row. I wonder if at aay time any poplar had grown there or thereabouts? Nineteen was the dingiest house in the row, it certainly wa», thaught darkson as he ence more oame iu eight of it. The bell handle was off; the knocker had long parted from the door. Olarkson applied his walking stick. Mrs Wnite'a voice, could be heard within. •Go downstairs, do, Bob, you bad boy; you're enough to kill me, that .yea are! lake that now, and be off!' And vtry evidently Mrs White's hand came in eoutact with her offspring's face. Th:a followed a howl—perhaps, under the circumstance, not wholly unjustified—a sound of feet hastily retreating to lower regions ; then the door opened and dfaoloecd Mrs White. It cannot be said that her face was clean. Her dress was in holes.; it was fastened at the throat by a tawdry brooch. Once, however, she must have bean quite a pretty woman. ' La, sir, is it you ? I'm glad to see you bask. Such worries as I've had—these people in the first floor not paying their rent. I'll tell yen what that man is, sir. He's a nasty, low, good for nothing, rumdrinking fellow. And as for beer, he was at home one day, and it was nothing but . send, send that young Bob to the King's Head round the corner for pints of ha'fandhalf, till the child got that tipsy with the alps ho took going, that I assure you I put him to bed in a r ally disgraoef ul condition

Aa for hla wife, shs's no better than he is. She's the kiad of woman that I wouldn't trout for five minutes with sixpenae of my money—eo, nor a penny neither !' With this Mrs White, who had spoken at a b.-ea'b, paused. VS hat she had said had been delivered in the passage, probably for the benefit of her first-floor lodgers, 'Now, sir, oome down. You arn't too ?roufi, I know, to oome into my kitchen. t's not tidy. I thought I ohonld get to cleaning it yesterday, but no; and my children worrit me ay. It's my impression, sir, that they would like to see their mother dead and io. her c ffia ; young Bob would, I knew 1'

His mother always called him young Bob; though the truth is, that he was a singularly old-loosing ohlld for his age, with a very crafty expression. They were, by thij time in the kitchen, which certainly was, as the landlady had described it, in no nice state. She cleared a chair for her visitor, then lushing to the window addressed a boy smaller than Bob, who was examining with grave interest the contents of the dua thole. ' Well, my son, you are a nice, clean little boy, aren't you ? I wouldn't leave off, if I were you. Look long enough, and you'll be ■are to find something—a toast shoulder of mutton, with baked potatoes under it, perhaps. Or, I shouldn't wonder, a fine turkey and a -plum pudding.' Then finding her withering irony produced no effeot on Master Tommy, who continued just as gravely, and just as silently, his careful inspection of the dustheap, the enraged mother darted from the room and swooped down upon him with a very heavy hand, and an impressive admonition. 'There! take that for being a bad dirty little boy, and for not doing what you're told; and look yon, my young gentleman, every time I find you out here playing with dirt I'll serve you just the same.' At this alarming prospect of ennui on the one hand and of punishment ou the other, the hero of the dustheap roarel louder thau ever.

' I see, my dear White, that you are a gaod df"»l troubled,' remarkea Ciarkson, -win :« 'he acund of grief had somewhat subsided - ' but now let us leave the culprits, and tell me how is Sara.'

'That's jaet the worst part of it, sir. Sally's down with something dreadfully bad; the doctor aaya it's consumption, bnt I don'c believe In what doetora say.' ' Tell me all about it at ence ' said Clarkson, who was most genuinely pained. ' Well, sir,' began Mrs White—'well, you hadn't been gone above a week when it seemed to me that she was getting a bit lazy and off her food ; bnt I didn't think much of

that, gi'ls often are that way. Perhaps she may have eafcn less than I noticed. Lord,

when you're as worrited as I am, you can't be counting how many mouthfuls of food a Obild takes to-day, and how many tomorrow; there's no fear of my boys not doing their share. We got some cold weather just at the end of July ; and one night, when ihe was playing at the Crown Theatre, it came down oue of those nasty cold raios. She was much later than usual coming home that night; perhaps I wasn't in the best of tempers, for young Bob had been more troublesome even than he is generally. It wai just one when Bhe walked in, the rain streaming down from her. ' I couldn't get a bus,' Bhe says; 'that's what makes me so late. It's so cald and wet, mother, I thought you might have had a bit of fire.' ' Fires in July !' I said ;' we oan afford that, can't we ? Perhaps you 6xpeoted a oold fowl and a bottle of port wine ? Bat your bread and oheese and drink your beer. do,' I says, 'and get to bed ; that's the best ! >ce for you.' She took a little bread and . but I saw she couldn't stomach the

cheese ; then she began shivering and crylog, and saying she was so cold. Well, I got her to bed, bnt the coughed through the night. In the morning she felt very hot, •nd didn't seem to know what she was saying, bo I sent for the doctor—not that I, in most cases, hold with doctors. He said that she had taken a bad feverish cold, and that it had gone to her lungs. However, she seemed to get over the worst of it, only she don't get her strength up, and sometimes she his bad fits of coughing. The doctor ■ays he can't do anything more. I say it's a good thing we don't depend on doctors ; it's Nature that will bring her round. You see •he eati hardly anything—not even that nica fish, which I get from King's opposite, where you can always count on getting it sweet, and jnst don? to a turn.' ' We must see what can be done, Mis White, I suppose I may see her ?' ' Yes; and it's my belief It will do her good She has often wondered when you would some back. I'll just go and tell her that you're here' And away went Mrs White.

(To be continued.')