That in fact was his occupation, and for the next five minutes he kept thus winding the cord, flinging the top to the ground, and intently bending down to catch it on his hand, none of the others, not even the children, taking the slightest notice of him,--he entirely alone there with his poor little pleasure.

There seemed to me pathos in his loneliness.

Had some one spun the top with him, it would have vanished; and presently, no doubt at the bidding of an oath I could not hear, he hurriedly thrust the top into his pocket, and once more joined the straining group of men.

The snatched pleasure must be put by at the call of reality; the world and its work must rush in upon his dream.

I have often thought about the top and its spinner, as I have noted the absorbed faces of other people's pleasures in the streets,--two lovers passing along the crowded Strand with eyes only for each other; a student deep in his book in the corner of an omnibus; a young mother glowing over the child in her arms; the wild-eyed musician dreamily treading on everybody's toes, and begging nobody's pardon; the pretty little Gaiety Girl hurrying to rehearsal with no thought but of her own sweet self and whether there will be a letter from Harry at the stage-door,--yes, if we are alone in our griefs, we are no less alone in our pleasures.