e would lift his
head and snarl out, "Hold your jaw, you damned old jade!"

"Haven't you a room to let?" Peer asked.

A beery nose was turned towards him, and the man dragged himself up and
wiped his hands on his trousers. "Right you are," said he, and led the
way across the yard, up some stairs, and into a little room with two
panes of glass looking on to the street and a half-window on the yard.
The room had a bed with sheets, a couple of chairs, and a table in front
of the half-window. Six and six a month. Agreed. Peer took it on the
spot, paid down the first month's rent, and having got rid of the man
sat down on his chest and looked about him. Many people have never a
roof to their heads, but here was he, Peer, with a home of his own.
Outside in the yard the woman had begun yelping her abuse again, the
horses in the stable beneath were stamping and whinnying, but Peer
had lodged in fisher-booths and peasants' quarters and was not too
particular. Here he was for the first time in a place of his own, and
within its walls was master of the house and his own master.

Food was the next thing. He went out and bought in supplies, stocking
his chest with plain country fare. At dinner time he sat on the lid,
as fishermen do, and made a good solid meal of flat bannocks and cold
bacon.

And now he fell-to at his new work. There was no question of whether it
was what he wanted or not; here was a chance of getting up in the world,
and that without having to beg any one's leave. He meant to get on. And
it was not long before his dreams began to take a new shape from his new
life. He stood at the bottom of a ladder, a blacksmith's boy--but up
at the top sat a mighty Chief Engineer, with gold spectacles and white
waistcoat. That was where he would be one day. And if any schoolmaster
came along and tried to keep him back this time--well, just let him
try it. They had turned him out of a churchyard once--he would have his
revenge for that some day. It might take him years and years to do it,
but one fine day he would be as good as the best of them, and would pay
them back in full.

In the misty mornings, as he tramped in to his work, dinner-pail in
hand, his footsteps on the plank bridge seemed hammering out with
concentrated will: "To-day I shall learn something new--new--new!"

The great works down at the harbour--shipyard, foundry, and machine
shops--were a whole city in themselves. And into this world of fire and
smoke an