And yet how great is the excuse for the poorly paid clerk, who, having married and seeing his children coming all too quickly, is at his wit's end to know how to meet his ever growing expenses upon a non-expanding salary. I know for a fact that an enormous majority of the married clerks and salesmen of London live the life of slaves to those whom they love, toiling ever with one end in view, the comfortable maintenance of their dear ones. In literature, save the mark, they are held up to scorn and ridicule, the clerk and the "counter jumper" being taken as fair game for every smart pen, and even giants of the quill like Mr H. G. Wells do not scruple to draw such a hideous caricature of a splendid solid class as Kipps. A monstrous exception if ever there was one to the great rule that these hardly entreated workers are fit to hold their own in any society, and as far as their work is concerned need not fear comparison with any. To resume, as far as I am personally concerned, I found that even the trifling amount that I was able to add to my income by my infrequent sales of fancy goods for monthly payments, became absolutely necessary to me, and I craved too for some means of adding thereunto. I answered many advertisements, but they were all of the canvassing or touting order, and I felt that I could much easier starve than do that. Why, I always found it a dreadful task to go on board a ship, and ask if they wanted any hands, to offer myself for hire! and that compared to the door to door canvassing is ridiculously easy. However, I was fortunate enough to get a job now and then to write up some firm's advertisement books, and so utilise the holidays I was allowed, but could not enjoy. This, and addressing envelopes at 3s. 6d. per thousand (I believe it is now done for 1s. 6d.), brought in a little valuable money, and improved my handwriting too. And still I craved for more. For one thing my seafaring habit of early rising clung to me so, that I simply could not remain in bed even on the dark mornings of winter after six o'clock, while in summer I was often out and about at three, enjoying the freshness of the young day, but lamenting that I could not put this leisure time to some presently profitable use. It was the same in the evening. Beyond the open-air meetings on Sunday and Thursday, I had no recreations, no places of amusement. I could not read _all_ the time, and although I walked fully ten miles a day to and from my work I had abundant energy still available.