The Argosy, Vol. XXIV No. 2 — page 179: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

LIVING IT DOWN. 371 She had heard much about ‘“‘John’’ from the neighbors, and all she had heard had been of the right sort. Jonah had talked bitterly of him now and then, but before he died he had acknowledged that John had been his only friend. Little Annie had never mentioned him without a smile brightening on her face ; and even those who had complaints to pour out about everybody all round, could find nothing to say about him. Yet she seemed destined never to see him . Little Tim, when she had entered the attic that morning and found the two desolate babies in possession, had replied, in answer to her natural in- quiry, ‘‘John ran away; he’s afraid of you; he don’t like ladies. He’s coming back.’’ She stayed and did what she could for the friendless orphans, and tried to brighten the room by a few feminine touches. She half hoped he might return before she had done, but he did not ; and when she left, the baby was asleep on the bed, and Tim perched on his look out at the window seat, where Jeffreys found them ten minutes later. ‘“ Perhaps,’’ suggested her father, to whom she narrated her adventures, ‘your shy friend has his reasons for keeping in as background. He may be an amiable criminal in hiding.’’ ‘“ A criminal could not look after two stray babies like that,’’ said Raby. ‘Well, it is curious and interesting. ‘One touch of nature makes the whole world kin,’ you know. So the unknown John, whatever else he is, is a brother, and deserves to be respected. I hope his shyness, however, may not take the very awkward turn which Jeffreys’ has. Waulkins tells me he took fright directly when even my name was introduced ; and he wouldn’t be sur- prised if he disappears altogether now.”’’ ‘Oh, father! Then we have really done more harm than good ?”’ ‘““That’s a cheerless way of putting it. He has promised to call again next week, and if nothing occurs to terrify him meantime, he may cziil do it. But Wilkins says there seems no getting at him. He will talk about For- rester, but when he comes to himself, he shuts up like a snail into his shell.”’ The next day, at her usual time, Raby turned her steps to Storr Alley. Groups of people stood about in the court, and it was evident, since she was last there, something unwonted had happened. A fireman’s helmet, at the other end of the alley, in the passage leading to Driver’s Court, told its own tale ; and if that was not enough, the smell of fire and the bundles of rags and broken furniture which blocked up the pathway, were sufficient evidence. The exiles from Driver’s stared hard at the young lady as she made her way through the crowd ; but the people of Storr Alley treated her as a friend, and she had no lack of information as to the calamity of the preceding night. ‘Bless you !’’ said the woman who lived in Jeffreys’ tenement, ‘‘ it was a proper flare up! ‘Three ’ouses burned out afore the ingins come ; and then they couldn’t do nothink for the crowds !”’ ‘And was any one killed, or hurt?’’ asked Raby: ‘‘ Killed! yes! three or four they say. But, bless you, I don’t know nothink of them Driver’s people. Don’t you have nothink-to do with ’em, missy. ‘They ain’t decent folk, like us. Look at’em! ‘There’s a nice mess they’re making our alley in! Why can’t they take their ’00ks somewheres CONNICOOOKS. EO