ss in addition to the cart. The ass must get his own food
or is given a little gathered refuse, and can yet bring in a trifle of
money. Most of the "surplus" betake themselves to huckstering. On
Saturday afternoons, especially, when the whole working population is on
the streets, the crowd who live from huckstering and peddling may be
seen. Shoe and corset laces, braces, twine, cakes, oranges, every kind
of small articles are offered by men, women, and children; and at other
times also, such peddlers are always to be seen standing at the street
corners, or going about with cakes and ginger-beer or nettle-beer.
Matches and such things, sealing-wax, and patent mixtures for lighting
fires are further resources of such venders. Others, so-called jobbers,
go about the streets seeking small jobs. Many of these succeed in
getting a day's work, many are not so fortunate.

"At the gates of all the London docks," says the Rev. W. Champney,
preacher of the East End, "hundreds of the poor appear every morning
in winter before daybreak, in the hope of getting a day's work. They
await the opening of the gates; and, when the youngest and strongest
and best known have been engaged, hundreds cast down by disappointed
hope, go back to their wretched homes."

When these people find no work and will not rebel against society, what
remains for them but to beg? And surely no one can wonder at the great
army of beggars, most of them able-bodied men, with whom the police
carries on perpetual war. But the beggary of these men has a peculiar
character. Such a man usually goes about with his family singing a
pleading song in the streets or appealing, in a speech, to the
benevolence of the passers-by. And it is a striking fact that these
beggars are seen almost exclusively in the working-people's districts,
that it is almost exclusively the gifts of the poor from which they live.
Or the family takes up its position in a busy street, and without
uttering a word, lets the mere sight of its helplessness plead for it. In
this case, too, they reckon upon the sympathy of the workers alone, who
know from experience how it feels to be hungry, and are liable to find
themselves in the same situation at any moment; for this dumb, yet most
moving appeal, is met with almost solely in such streets as are
frequented by working-men, and at such hours as working-men pass by; but
especially on summer evenings, when the "secrets" of the