eriod had elapsed, and a greater change had taken place, by the
time of casting off the suit that hung above. It was that of a stout,
broad-shouldered, sturdy-chested man; and we knew at once, as anybody
would, who glanced at that broad-skirted green coat, with the large metal
buttons, that its wearer seldom walked forth without a dog at his heels,
and some idle ruffian, the very counterpart of himself, at his side. The
vices of the boy had grown with the man, and we fancied his home then--if
such a place deserve the name.

We saw the bare and miserable room, destitute of furniture, crowded with
his wife and children, pale, hungry, and emaciated; the man cursing their
lamentations, staggering to the tap-room, from whence he had just
returned, followed by his wife and a sickly infant, clamouring for bread;
and heard the street-wrangle and noisy recrimination that his striking
her occasioned. And then imagination led us to some metropolitan
workhouse, situated in the midst of crowded streets and alleys, filled
with noxious vapours, and ringing with boisterous cries, where an old and
feeble woman, imploring pardon for her son, lay dying in a close dark
room, with no child to clasp her hand, and no pure air from heaven to fan
her brow. A stranger closed the eyes that settled into a cold unmeaning
glare, and strange ears received the words that murmured from the white
and half-closed lips.

A coarse round frock, with a worn cotton neckerchief, and other articles
of clothing of the commonest description, completed the history. A
prison, and the sentence--banishment or the gallows. What would the man
have given then, to be once again the contented humble drudge of his
boyish years; to have been restored to life, but for a week, a day, an
hour, a minute, only for so long a time as would enable him to say one
word of passionate regret to, and hear one sound of heartfelt forgiveness
from, the cold and ghastly form that lay rotting in the pauper's grave!
The children wild in the streets, the mother a destitute widow; both
deeply tainted with the deep disgrace of the husband and father's name,
and impelled by sheer necessity, down the precipice that had led him to a
lingering death, possibly of many years' duration, thousands of miles
away. We had no clue to the end of the tale; but it was easy to guess
its termination.

We took a step or two further on, and by way of restoring the naturally
cheerful tone of our thoughts,