An' little Joe Crutch, as used ter come 'ere beggin' a spoonful of drippin' fer 'is mother, come 'ome drunk the other night so natural, that 'is mother mistook 'im fer 'is father, an' landed 'im on the ear with 'er fist.

An' 'im the apple of 'er eye, as the sayin' is.

It's 'ard ter be a mother in Cardigan Street.

Yer girls are mothers before their bones are set, an' yer sons are dodgin' the p'liceman round the corner before they're in long trousers." It was rare for Mrs Yabsley to touch on her private sorrows, and there was an embarrassing silence.

But suddenly, from the corner of Pitt Street, appeared a strange figure of a man, roaring out a song in the voice of one selling fish.