uantity), has changed somewhat like the rest, for
a few years have thinned the short-cropped though once curly locks above
his knotted forehead, besides sprinkling them with grey. But in other
respects he has not fallen off--nay he has rather improved, owing to the
peculiar system of diet and discipline and regularity of life to which,
during these years, he has been subjected.

When Ned returned from what we may style his outing, he went straight to
the old court with something like a feeling of anxiety in his heart, but
found the old home deserted and the old door, which still bore deep
marks of his knuckle, on the upper panels and his boots on the lower,
was padlocked. He inquired for Mrs Frog, but was told she had left the
place long ago,--and no one knew where she had gone.

With a heavy heart Ned turned from the door and sauntered away,
friendless and homeless. He thought of making further inquiries about
his family, but at the corner of the street smelt the old shop that had
swallowed up so much of his earnings.

"If I'd on'y put it all in the savin's bank," he said bitterly, stopping
in front of the gin-palace, "I'd 'ave bin well off to-day."

An old comrade turned the corner at that moment.

"What! Ned Frog!" he cried, seizing his hand and shaking it with
genuine goodwill. "Well, this _is_ good luck. Come along, old boy!"

It was pleasant to the desolate man to be thus recognised. He went
along like an ox to the slaughter, though, unlike the ox, he knew well
what he was going to.

He was "treated." He drank beer. Other old friends came in. He drank
gin. If good resolves had been coming up in his mind earlier in the day
he forgot them now. If better feelings had been struggling for the
mastery, he crushed them now. He got drunk. He became disorderly. He
went into High Street, Whitechapel, with a view to do damage to
somebody. He succeeded. He tumbled over a barrow, and damaged his own
shins. He encountered Number 666 soon after, and, through his
influence, passed the night in a police cell.

After this Ned gave up all thought of searching for his wife and family.

"Better let 'em alone," he growled to himself on being discharged from
the police-office with a caution.

But, as we have said or hinted elsewhere, Ned was a man of iron will.
He resolved to avoid the public-house, to drink in moderation, and to do
his drinking at home. Being as powerful and active as ever he had been,
he