"Come, now, old lady," he said, "you don't mean to tel me that you sized me up for a farmer ?" A labouring man marched along; with bundles under his arms.

To her remarks, he replied, "It's a fine evenin', ain't it ?" She smiled squarely into the face of a boy who was hurrying by with his hands buried in his overcoat pockets, his blonde locks bobbing on his youthful temples, and a cheery smile of unconcern upon his lips.

He turned his head and smiled back at her, waving his hands.
"Not this eve--some other eve!" A drunken man, reeling in her pathway, began to roar at her.

"I ain' ga no money!" he shouted, in a dismal voice.

He lurched on up the street, wailing to himself: "I ain' ga no money.