should either reform or sweep away altogether. At present the establishment was apparently closed. The appalling pictures no longer stood before the doors. The illumination which usually blazed upon it was extinguished. No sound of music or laughter came through into the street. The doors were closed, and the whole place seemed deserted. Now and then, however, a man went up, knocked, and after a short parley was admitted, and then all was quiet again. At this door the party knocked. It was partially opened, and a voice said,— “What do you want?” “Universal suffrage,” the Slogger answered. The door opened a little wider, and they all entered. They found themselves in perfect darkness, but the man who had let them in turned on the light of a bull's-eye lantern. “You are late, mates,” he said, leading the way along the passage. Opening a door, he admitted them into the main apartment, a sort of covered room or theatre. At one end was a raised stage, with the usual front and drop scene. The latter was now raised, however, and four or five chairs and a table were on the stage, and some ten or a dozen men were standing or sitting there. The aspect of the place was tawdry and dirty beyond description. The walls, originally white and decorated with flower wreaths, were now black with smoke and filth. What the ornamentation of the ceiling had once been, it was impossible to say. The place was lighted by two gas chandeliers, without glasses, and by a row of footlights in front of the stage. The room was full of men, who were mostly smoking short pipes, and the fog of tobacco smoke made it seem dingier and darker than it really was, while the close, noxious atmosphere, and the entire absence of any ventilation whatever, rendered it difficult for any one unaccustomed to such noxious atmosphere to breathe at all. The new comers took their stand close to the door where they entered, and the seats having been removed and everyone standing, their coming was altogether unnoticed by anyone. “I say, Prescott, the air here is poisonous; it makes me feel quite faint.” “So it does me, Frank. We'd better light our pipes; we shan't feel it so much.” They accordingly followed the example of all around them, and began to smoke, but even then they found the atmosphere almost overpowering. “We can't stand this long, Prescott. We'll just listen to a speech or two, and then we will have some fun.”