ave and stern realities yet to come.

There was a mighty platform covered with crimson cloth in the centre of
the hall in front of the orchestra. On it were several mysterious
objects covered with sheets. At a signal--a whistle--given by the
Doctor, a band of sturdy boys, clad in their work-a-day uniform,
scampered down the central passage of the hall, jumped on the platform,
flung off the sheets, and discovered carpenters' benches, saws, hammers,
wood--in short, all the appliances with which they carry on the various
trades at their "Home" in the East End. In a few seconds, as if by
magic, the platform was a workshop in full swing--hammering, sawing,
chiselling, wood-chopping, clattering, and indescribable din, which was
enhanced, but not drowned, by the applause of the astonished audience.
The little fellows worked as though life depended on their activity, for
the space, it seemed to me, of half a minute. Then the shrill whistle
sounded again, and the work ceased, as if the springs of life had been
suddenly cut off. Dead silence ensued; each worker remaining in the
attitude in which he had been petrified--a group of artisan statuary in
colour!

The Doctor was thus enabled quietly to explain that the display
represented only a very few of the trades taught and carried on by his
rescued boys at Stepney Causeway.

At another signal the splendidly drilled young fellows scampered off,
carrying not only their tools, but their benches, tables, stools, and
even debris along with them, and, disappearing in less than a couple of
minutes, left not a chip or shaving behind.

It would take a good many pages of close writing to give anything like a
detailed account of all that I saw. I must pass over much in order to
emphasise one or two very telling incidents. The Doctor presented a
sample of all his wares. One of these was a very touching sample--
namely, a band of cripples, who made their way slowly on crutches down
the passage to the platform--for it is one of the noteworthy points in
this Mission that no destitute boy is turned away, whether he be well or
ill, crippled or sound. So, also, there was a small procession of neat,
pleasant-looking nurses, each leading one or more mites of forsaken
humanity from "Babies' Castle."

But it seemed to me that the kernel of the nut had been reached, and the
foundation of the God-like Mission laid bare for our inspection, when
the raw material was led forth. We had got acc