I shall not give you the address of Johnny Upright.

Let it suffice that he lives in the most respectable street in the East End--a street that would be considered very mean in America, but a veritable oasis in the desert of East London.

It is surrounded on every side by close-packed squalor and streets jammed by a young and vile and dirty generation; but its own pavements are comparatively bare of the children who have no other place to play, while it has an air of desertion, so few are the people that come and go.
Each house in this street, as in all the streets, is shoulder to shoulder with its neighbours.

To each house there is but one entrance, the front door; and each house is about eighteen feet wide, with a bit of a brick- walled yard behind, where, when it is not raining, one may look at a slate-coloured sky.

But it must be understood that this is East End opulence we are now considering.