to the
neighbourhood of Whitechapel. The three seemed rather fond of this
region, and no wonder; for, although never welcomed, they found
themselves strong enough to force an entrance into many a poor home, and
to remain in possession.

Swaggering, in their own noisy and violent manner, into several courts
and blind alleys, they caught up all the lighter articles of rubbish
that lay about, hurled them against the frail and cracked windows--some
of which they broke, and others of which they could not break by reason
of their having been broken already. They did what was next best,
however,--drove in the old hats and coats and other garments, with which
the square holes had been inefficiently stopped.

"Jolly! ain't it?" remarked a street boy, with a ruddy face and hair
blown straight on end all round, to another street boy with a cast-iron
look and a red nose--both being powerfully robust.

"Prime!" asserted the knight of the red nose.

And then both went eagerly to take liberties with a neighbouring pump,
from the spout of which hung an icicle like a stalactite, the droppings
from which, at an earlier period, had formed a considerable stalagmite
on the stones below.

It is probable that the sick old man on the poor bed in the small room
close to the pump did not think the state of matters either "jolly" or
"prime," for, besides being very old, he was very weak and thin and cold
and hungry; in addition to which Jack Frost had seated himself on the
rickety chair beside the empty grate, and seemed bent on remaining--the
colonel having previously blown open the door and removed a garment
which had sheltered the old man's head, thus permitting the major to
sprinkle a miniature drift on his pillow.

"I hardly like to leave you, gran'father, in such blustery weather,"
said a little maiden of about ten years of age, with filthy garments and
a dirty face, who, if she had been washed and dressed, would have been
distinctly pretty, but who, in the circumstances, was rather plain. As
she spoke she re-adjusted the garment-screen and removed the snowdrift.

"Don't say that, Martha," replied the old man in a thin weak voice--it
had been strong and deep and resonant once, but Time and Want and
Disease play sad havoc with strong men.

"You _must_ go, darling," resumed the old man after a few seconds' pause
to recover breath. "You've no chance of a breakfast otherwise. And--
perhaps--they may give you a bit to bring home f