' you--I met rue it at arter. Nay, I'll wish ye good-bye an'
good luck, all on you, but I'll bide wheer I am."

He returned thereupon to his concertina, meeting all further
persuasions by deep sighs and obdurate shakes of the head; and,
finding their efforts useless, the party withdrew at last, to drink
his health without him.

As they retraced their steps the uncertain notes of Ted's concertina
came floating after them, borne upon the evening breeze; gradually
these shaped themselves into a tune, a tune which their incredulous
ears were at last forced to identify. Joe Lovelady suddenly paused and
threw out his hand.

"'Ark, all on ye, 'ark at that! Do ye know the tune th' owd lad's
hammerin' at?"

They all paused, holding their breaths; and then shouts of laughter
broke the stillness.

Radical Ted was playing _God Save the Queen_.

HEATHER IN HOLBORN

"I can scarce fancy her living here," said the man, pausing half-way
up the stairs to look upwards at the dusty length which remained to be
traversed. "Nay, she could never live here. I'm come on a fool's
errand, but I may as well see it through."

His tall, broad-shouldered figure disappeared behind another angle,
and halted at length on the fifth floor. On the door facing him a name
was neatly painted:--_Mr. Whiteside_.

"'Tis a Lancashire name, right enough," he said, "but there weren't
any Whitesides in our part when I was a lad. It'll be some stranger as
our Molly took up with--well, let's go for'ard."

His tap was answered by a fresh-coloured woman, neatly clad in a stuff
gown. The man surveyed her with a curious searching look, and she
stared back at him.

"What was you pleased to want, sir?" she inquired at length, growing
uncomfortable under his scrutiny. "Mr. Whiteside--that's my
husband--is out."

"Does Mrs. Rigby live here? No, I'm sure she does not--I beg your
pardon--it is a mistake."

"No, sir, no mistake at all; it's quite right. Mrs. Rigby does live
here--she's my mother."

The stranger again darted a swift, eager glance at her.

"Right," he said. "I'll come in; I want to see her."

Mrs. Whiteside hesitated for a moment. "My mother doesn't often have
visitors," she said. "We've been here more nor ten year now, and
nobody's ever come lookin' for her."

"I've come a long way to look for her," said the man; "I've come from
Australia. I'm bringing her news of her son Will."

"Eh dear!" cried the woman, clapping her hands toget