s just entered, and who, after stating explicitly, to
prevent any subsequent misunderstanding, that 'this gentleman pays,'
calls for 'a glass of port wine and a bit of sugar.'

Those two old men who came in 'just to have a drain,' finished their
third quartern a few seconds ago; they have made themselves crying drunk;
and the fat comfortable-looking elderly women, who had 'a glass of
rum-srub' each, having chimed in with their complaints on the hardness of
the times, one of the women has agreed to stand a glass round, jocularly
observing that 'grief never mended no broken bones, and as good people's
wery scarce, what I says is, make the most on 'em, and that's all about
it!' a sentiment which appears to afford unlimited satisfaction to those
who have nothing to pay.

It is growing late, and the throng of men, women, and children, who have
been constantly going in and out, dwindles down to two or three
occasional stragglers--cold, wretched-looking creatures, in the last
stage of emaciation and disease. The knot of Irish labourers at the
lower end of the place, who have been alternately shaking hands with, and
threatening the life of each other, for the last hour, become furious in
their disputes, and finding it impossible to silence one man, who is
particularly anxious to adjust the difference, they resort to the
expedient of knocking him down and jumping on him afterwards. The man in
the fur cap, and the potboy rush out; a scene of riot and confusion
ensues; half the Irishmen get shut out, and the other half get shut in;
the potboy is knocked among the tubs in no time; the landlord hits
everybody, and everybody hits the landlord; the barmaids scream; the
police come in; the rest is a confused mixture of arms, legs, staves,
torn coats, shouting, and struggling. Some of the party are borne off to
the station-house, and the remainder slink home to beat their wives for
complaining, and kick the children for daring to be hungry.

We have sketched this subject very slightly, not only because our limits
compel us to do so, but because, if it were pursued farther, it would be
painful and repulsive. Well-disposed gentlemen, and charitable ladies,
would alike turn with coldness and disgust from a description of the
drunken besotted men, and wretched broken-down miserable women, who form
no inconsiderable portion of the frequenters of these haunts; forgetting,
in the pleasant consciousness of their own rectitude, the poverty