[Illustration] 'Perhaps you'd like to come down and see my place?' Mr. Merrywhistle said that he _would_ very much like to come down and see Jimmy Virtue's place. 'Come along, then,' said Jimmy Virtue, but paused, and said, 'Stop a bit; perhaps you wouldn't mind buyin' a penn'orth o' baked taters first.' A baked-potato can, with a man attached to it, being near them, Mr. Merrywhistle invested a penny, thinking that Jimmy Virtue intended the potatoes for supper. 'Did you ever consider,' said the eccentric old man, as they turned down the narrowest of lanes, 'that a big city was like a theaytre?' 'No, it never struck me.' 'It is, though I there's stalls, and dress-circle, and pit, and gallery, in a big city like London. The west, that's the stalls and private boxes; the north, that's the dress-circle; the south, that's the pit; the east, that's the gallery. This is the penny-gallery of the theaytre; 'taint a nice place to lay in.' He stopped before the forms of two children--a boy and a girl--who, huddled in each other's arms, were fast asleep in a gateway. He stirred them gently with his foot; and the boy started to his feet instantaneously, wide awake, and on the alert for his natural enemies, the police. Mr. Merrywhistle was standing in the abutment of the gateway, and the boy couldn't see his face; but the well-known form of Jimmy Virtue was instantly recognised; and as the boy sank to the ground, he muttered: 'What's the good of waking us up just as we was a-gettin' warm? You wouldn't like it yourself, Mr. Wirtue, you wouldn't.' Then he crept closer to his companion, and said sleepily: 'Come along, Bladergrass; let's turn in agin.' The girl, who had been regarding the two dark shadows with a half-frightened, half-imploring look, as if she dreaded that they were about to turn her out of her miserable shelter, nestled in the lad's arms, and the next minute they were asleep again. All blessings were not denied to them. 'I know that lad,' said Mr. Merrywhistle. 'You ought to; it's Tom Beadle.' 'And he was at the Royal Exchange to-day with that poor little girl?' 'Yes, that was him. You thought he was dyin'. What do you think now? Jimmy Virtue seemed to take positive pleasure in putting the affair in the worst light. Mr. Merrywhistle did not answer the question, but said, in a sad tone, 'He begged of me again to-night.' 'Did he, though!' exclaimed Jimmy Virtue admiringly. 'And when I asked him if any one had given him a--a shilling on the Royal Exchange to-day, he took an oath that he hadn't been near the Royal Exchange for a month, and that he had never had a shilling given to him in all his life.' 'And did you believe him, and give him anythin'?' 'Yes' (hesitatingly), 'I gave him a trifle.' Jimmy Virtue stopped by a post, and held his sides. When he had had his laugh out, he said: