The misery of cold and starvation was growing familiar to Waymark's eyes, and scarcely excited the same feelings as formerly; yet there were some cases in which he had not the heart to press for the payment of rent, and his representations to Mr.Woodstock on behalf of the poor creatures were more frequently successful than in former times.

Still, in the absence of then but eviction, and Waymark more than once knew what ideal philanthropy, there was nothing for it every now and it was to be cursed to his face by suffering wretches whom despair made incapable of discrimination.

"Where are we to go ?" was the oft-repeated question, and the only reply was a shrug of the shoulders; impossible to express oneself otherwise.

They clung desperately to habitations so vile that brutes would have forsaken them for cleaner and warmer retreats in archway and by roadside.

One family of seven, a man and wife (both ill) with five children, could not be got out, even when a man had been sent by Mr.Woodstock to remove the window-frames and take the door away, furniture having already been seized; only by force at length were they thrown into the street, to find their way to perdition as best they might.