n introduced to them at that 'Ome of Industry by Mr
Welland, who used to be a great friend of their poor boy that ran away.
And Mrs Twitter goes about the 'Ome, and among the poor so much, and
can tell her so many stories about poor people, that she's grown quite
fond of her."

"But we _ain't_ all equal, Mrs Screwbury," said the cook, recurring,
with some asperity, to a former remark, "an' nothink you or anybody else
can ever say will bring me to believe it."

"Quite right, cook," said Balls. "For instance, no one would ever admit
that I was as good a cook as you are, or that you was equal to Mrs
Screwbury as a nurse, or that any of us could compare with Jessie
Summers as a 'ouse-maid, or that I was equal to Sir Richard in the
matters of edication, or station, or wealth. No, it is in the more
serious matters that concern our souls that we are equal, and I fear
that when Death comes, he's not very particular as to who it is he's
cuttin' down when he's got the order."

A ring at the bell cut short this learned discourse. "That's for the
cab," remarked Mr Balls as he went out.

Now, while these things were taking place at the "West-End," in the
"East-End" the Twitters were assembled round the social board enjoying
themselves--that is to say, enjoying themselves as much as in the
circumstances was possible. For the cloud that Sammy's disappearance
had thrown over them was not to be easily or soon removed.

Since the terrible day on which he was lost, a settled expression of
melancholy had descended on the once cheery couple, which extended in
varying degree down to their youngest. Allusion was never made to the
erring one; yet it must not be supposed he was forgotten. On the
contrary, Sammy was never out of his parents' thoughts. They prayed for
him night and morning aloud, and at all times silently. They also took
every possible step to discover their boy's retreat, by means of the
ordinary police, as well as detectives whom they employed for the
purpose of hunting Sammy up: but all in vain.

It must not be supposed, however, that this private sorrow induced Mrs
Twitter selfishly to forget the poor, or intermit her labours among
them. She did not for an hour relax her efforts in their behalf at
George Yard and at Commercial Street.

At the Twitter social board--which, by the way, was spread in another
house not far from that which had been burned--sat not only Mr and Mrs
Twitter and all the little Twitters