e West End called Kensington. Here the boys are
taken in and taught, not only lessons, but all kinds of things that boys
can do without having to walk. Some are tailors, and some make harness
for carriage-horses, and some carve wood, and learn carpentering or
shoemaking. And so they can earn their own living when they grow up to
be men. They all seem very happy, and when you meet them on a walk it is
a touching sight; but yet not really sad, because their faces are bright
and happy. Fancy meeting twenty or thirty boys going along together,
every one of them lame or deformed in some way! Some go on crutches, and
some hobble, and others limp; but they do not seem to mind, because,
perhaps, they have never known what it is to be active like other boys,
and there are plenty of pleasant things they can still do.

CHAPTER VIII

STREETS AND SHOPS

When I asked a little girl who was visiting London for the first time if
it was like what she had expected, she said, 'No,' and when I asked how
it differed from the idea she had had, she said: 'I expected to see long
rows and rows of houses, going on for miles and miles, but I never
thought there would be so many things in the streets--cabs and omnibuses
and people; it's all so much fuller and gayer than I thought.'

I think this is what would strike anyone who was seeing London for the
first time, especially if they came in what is called 'the season.' The
season lasts for three months--May, June, and July--and during that time
the people who live in the country, but are rich enough to have houses
in London, come up to town; and the people who have houses in London,
but who go away a great deal during the rest of the year, make a point
of being in London during the season; and many other people, who are
gay and rich, come up to town just for those three months to meet all
their friends and see what is going on. So the streets in the West End
are very full indeed. In the beginning of May, when the fine weather
comes, people in costly motor-cars appear in the Park in greater
numbers, until at the height of the season there are rows and rows of
them. If you were to go to the Park any fine afternoon about that time
of the year and were to stand near one of the great gates at Hyde Park
Corner, you would see all the traffic drawn up in double lines, with the
well-dressed women inside the carriages waiting for something. They are
interested in seeing H.M. the Queen, who is very