aid before, he was unusually strong.

Next day, having thought over his plans in bed, and, being a man of
strong determination, he went forth to carry them into immediate
execution. He went to a lofty tenement in the neighbourhood of Dean and
Flower Street, one of the poorest parts of the city, and hired a garret,
which was so high up that even the staircase ended before you reached
it, and the remainder of the upward flight had to be performed on a
ladder, at the top of which was a trap-door, the only entrance to Ned's
new home.

Having paid a week's rent in advance he took possession, furnished the
apartment with one old chair, one older table, one bundle of straw in a
sack, one extremely old blanket, and one brand-new pipe with a
corresponding ounce or two of tobacco. Then he locked the trap-door,
put the key in his pocket, and descended to the street, where at
Bird-fair he provided himself with sundry little cages and a few birds.
Having conveyed these with some food for himself and the little birds to
his lodging he again descended to the street, and treated himself to a
pint of beer.

While thus engaged he was saluted by an old friend, the owner of a low
music-hall, who begged for a few minutes' conversation with him outside.

"Ned," he said, "I'm glad I fell in with you, for I'm uncommon 'ard up
just now."

"I never lends money," said Ned, brusquely turning away.

"'Old on, Ned, I don't want yer money, bless yer. I wants to _give_ you
money."

"Oh! that's quite another story; fire away, old man."

"Well, you see, I'm 'ard up, as I said, for a man to keep order in my
place. The last man I 'ad was a good 'un, 'e was. Six futt one in 'is
socks, an' as strong as a 'orse, but by ill luck one night, a
sailor-chap that was bigger than 'im come in to the 'all, an' they 'ad a
row, an' my man got sitch a lickin' that he 'ad to go to hospital, an'
'e's been there for a week, an' won't be out, they say, for a month or
more. Now, Ned, will you take the job? The pay's good an' the fun's
considerable. So's the fightin', sometimes, but you'd put a stop to
that you know. An', then, you'll 'ave all the day to yourself to do as
you like."

"I'm your man," said Ned, promptly.

Thus it came to pass that the pugilist obtained suitable employment as a
peacemaker and keeper of order, for a time at least, in one of those
disreputable places of amusement where the unfortunate poor of London
are taught lessons of vice