Manchester Jack was one of the best beggars that I have met in this country. He scorned to play music, sing, or sell. Although he was a big, strong, able-bodied man in the prime of life, he could earn more than a crippled young man or an old man feebled and paralysed. This sounds like a reproach to the world, but it is very easy to explain. Manchester Jack, being active and business-like, could call at three times more houses than a man that was afflicted by age or accident. He would certainly be refused at one or two places where the latter would succeed, but the greater number of houses he called at would give him the advantage. From a beggar's point of view, the world consists of two kinds of people--the good and the bad. The good will not refuse a man because he is able-bodied, and the bad can and will always find some excuse for not giving assistance. The very few that give in particular cases are in such a minority that a man like Manchester Jack would be very little affected. I travelled with him for ten days, and when I took one side of a street, and he the other, he not only finished his side first, but, starting at the other end of mine, would meet me half way. He was a kind-hearted fellow, always willing to give strangers information about good or bad towns. On one occasion, when we had just finished begging a street, Manchester Jack asked me if I had received any scrand (food). I told him yes; that I had taken fivepence and two parcels of food, which were in my pockets. "Well, lad," he answered, "I have taken ninepence, but no scrand. Let me have the scrand and I will make it all right later on." I gave him the two parcels, but was considerably taken by surprise; for I knew Jack was too proud a beggar to be seen eating in public, and preferred to sit comfortably in a warm lodging-house kitchen. Taking the food he went to a house that he had just left, knocked at the door, handed in the parcels and began to retreat, followed by a woman's voice, which made him hurry faster. When he came back he explained to me that he had called at that house, and the woman had begun to cry, saying at last that she was in want herself. "So," said Manchester Jack, "I have given her your parcels and a couple of pennies to get a bit of tea." On another occasion he was leaving a house when he ran into a very dirty-looking tramp, who was wasting his precious time looking at the doors instead of knocking at them. "Mister," said this dirty and timid man, judging Jack by his smart walk and confident smile to be the tenant of the house--"Mister," said he, "is the Mrs. any good for a mouthful of bread?" "Here," answered Jack, giving him a penny--"here, and get out of this street at once; for a beggar has just left this house, and the lady cannot give to everyone; take my advice and go to another street."