ed it to me
about savin' the five lives. It was either make good or welsh, and she
comes to the scratch cheerful.

"Very well, then," says she, "we will drive down there at once."

So it's me into the Victoria alongside of Miss Ann, with the fat coachman
pilotin' us down Fifth-ave. to 14th, then across to Third-ave., and again
down and over to the far East Side.

I forget the exact block; but it's one of the old style double-deckers,
with rusty fire escapes decorated with beddin' hung out to air, dark
hallways that has a perfume a garbage cart would be ashamed of, rickety
stairs, plasterin' all gone off the halls, and other usual signs of real
estate that the agents squeeze fifteen per cent. out of. You know how
it's done, by fixin' the Buildin' and Board of Health inspectors, jammin'
from six to ten fam'lies in on a floor, never makin' any repairs, and
collectin' weekly rents or servin' dispossess notices prompt when they
don't pay up.

Lovely place to hang up one of the "Home, Sweet Home" mottoes! There's a
water tap in every hall, so all the tenants can have as much as they
want, stove holes in most of the rooms, and you buy your coal by the
bucket at the rate of about fourteen dollars a ton. Only three a week for
a room, twelve dollars a month. Course, that's more per room than you'd
pay on the upper West Side with steam heat, elevator service, and a
Tennessee marble entrance hall thrown in; but the luxury of stowin' a
whole fam'ly into one room comes high. Or maybe the landlords are doin'
it to discourage poverty.

"This is where the Tiscotts hang out, is it?" says I. "Shall I lug the
basket for you, Miss Colliver?"

"Dear no!" says she. "I never go into such places. I always send the
things in by Hutchins. He will bring Mrs. Tiscott down and she will tell
us about her troubles."

"Let Hutchins sit on the box this time," says I, grabbin' up the basket.
"Besides, I don't want any second hand report."

"But surely," puts in Miss Ann, "you are not going into such a----"

"Why not?" says I. "I begun livin' in one just like it."

At that Miss Ann settles back under the robe, shrugs her shoulders into
her furs, and waves for me to go ahead.

Half a dozen kids on the doorstep told me in chorus where I'd find the
Tiscotts, and after I've climbed up through four layers of stale cabbage
and fried onion smells and felt my way along to the third door left from
the top of the stairs, I makes my entrance as the spec